She Was a Phantom of Delight
by LeglessJedi
Summary: Camille is an Irish girl living under British rule. Meeting Captain Jack Sparrow is just the excitement she needs in her dull, unbearable life. But Jack has a tendency of leading women on, and Camille finds herself fascinated with a pirate's way of life
1. Jack and Camille

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story. But then again, I do own half of them.

A/N: Hey people! It's time for a POTC fanfic! And I'm getting much better at creating original characters (yaay! And there was much rejoicing!) So enjoy, comment, critique, or just read. Whatever.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 1: Jack and Camille

"Lady Camille, you have a visitor," a tired-looking butler said.

The redhead looked up from her dresser. "Thank you, Benjamin," she said in her slight Irish accent. "Do tell father I will be down in a moment." She got up and poked her head out into the hallway. "And Benjamin, take the rest of the evening off; you look terribly exhausted."

Benjamin nodded politely. "Thank you Miss Quartermaine. I think I shall. By the way, it is Mr. Black again."

Camille sighed heavily.

"I am sorry, Miss Quartermaine. I tried to turn him away, but your father has come home early and insisted upon his staying," Benjamin drawled.

"It's all right Benjamin, you did your best. Will see you tomorrow, then?"

Benjamin nodded snootily. "As always, Miss Quartermaine."

She moaned, descending the spiraling staircase of her father's magnificent home. She made her way to the front parlor, where an extremely handsome man was sitting with her father. He stood up upon her entering. His hair was short and blond, and his blue eyes revealed his shy (and horribly egotistical) personality.

He nodded, his hands folded in front of him. "Good evening, Camille," he said.

She cleared her throat. "Hello, Mr. Black," she said, emphasizing that she clearly did not feel close enough to him to refer to him by his first name. She was surprised that he'd been bold enough to say hers. She eyed her father, who was smiling. She impatiently sucked her teeth and gave her father a threatening look.

"I was wondering if you would care to take a walk," Mr. Black inquired.

"So late?" she asked. It was nearly 8:00! That was way too ungodly of an hour to be wasting her time with this man.

Her father cleared his throat loudly, standing up. "Nonsense. My daughter would be simply delighted to walk with you," he insisted as he eyed Camille warningly.

Mr. Black smiled, offering his arm to her. She grudgingly took it and they went through the back of the house to the garden. It was only beginning to get dark, and she could see lights begin to go on in surrounding far off windows. She had been ready to take down her hred hair and read a book, until she'd been rudely interrupted by this pompous idiot.

He actually wasn't the worst suitor she'd ever had. He did adore talking about himself, and was able to almost feign interest in her on occasion. At least he wasn't like that officer Gilette from the King's Navy in Port Royale. What a pain in the arse he was.

Mr. Black's voice shook her from her thoughts. "Camille, there is an issue I would like to discuss with you."

"Oh really, Mr. Black?"

"Camille, please. There's no need to be so formal with me."

She sighed. "I suppose so, Joseph. So what is it that you wish to discuss with me?" she asked calmly, like she didn't know what was coming next. She could see that he was becoming nervous. He was playing with the hem of his coat.

"Camille, I…Miss Quartermaine…I…would be honored if you would do me the pleasure of…Miss Quartermaine, would you marry me?"

She had to choke back a laugh. It never failed to amuse her to see how the men were going to propose to her. But this one seemed so afraid…almost like he had been pressured into it. She knew he wasn't ready. In addition to his egotism. Biting her tongue, she practiced her act, which she was getting significantly better at.

She held hr hand to her heart in "shock". She also made a slight gasping noise. "Why, Joseph! Do you really believe that we are ready for such a commitment?"

"I-I do, Camille. I know that we haven't known each other that long, but I have come to care a great deal for you."

_Or at least for the fat sum of money my father is sitting on,_ she thought bitterly. "Well Joseph, I am…flattered," she said, searching for the right lie. "But I pray that you will give me a day or two to think on this?"

He nodded. "Of course, Camille. I think I shall take my leave now. Good evening," he said, the tone of his voice wavering slightly.

"Good evening, Mr. Black," she said with a finality for her tone. With her hands clenched into fists, she turned on her heel and walked into the mansion of the house that she lived in.

Captain Jack Sparrow was beginning to swoon a bit from his consumption of alcohol. Staggering along the emptying road, he received all sorts of odd looks from the citizens of Port Celebros. Not really having a lot of common sense prevalent, he stopped in some hedges, seating himself uncomfortably until he could manage to stop the scenery from swirling.

After making the mistake of dozing off for an hour or two, he finally was able to come to most of his sense. Now fully alert, he himself from the old man he could see exiting a house and approaching the gate.

Jack too this opportunity to look around. He was in some bushes that were in no need of attention. Above him were a group of small trees, and he saw that by climbing them he'd be able to get onto a small part of the roof. He started toward the tree, but hesitated when he remembered that he'd been pretty drunk. "Not wise," he uttered to himself.

He was interrupted from his contemplation by an inward slamming of a door. He ducked silently, fearing that he might have been spotted.

He could hear a woman's voice. She sounded tired. "Father, this has got to stop."

Then there was a man's voice. "Well, did he ask you?"

"Yes, and I almost accepted it out of pity, the poor man was so nervous!"

The man sighed. "Camille…you have refused every single suitor you have had for the past two and a half years," he said flusterdly.

Two and a half years of suitors? This girl had either been beaten with an ugly stick or was a total wench, Jack thought.

"Yes, I have. And I will continue to do so," she said firmly.

"Camille sweetheart, you are 21. You must settle down and…you should consider yourself lucky to have so many opportunities-"

"Lucky? Father, are you daft? I have only had to deal with proposal after proposal because I am heiress to your huge fortune!" she said, raising her voice.

Jack blinked. Had he just heard correctly? The young lady of this household was set to inherit a fortune…as in, money? He grinned, rubbing his hands together greedily.

He stood up, brushing himself off inconspicuously. "Well, I believe my work here is done."

"Father, I am tired of these men PRETENDING that they actually care fore me. They are only concerned with the money that they will be entitled to if they are added to the will. Would you be necessarily happy if you married me off to someone like that, Father?"

She took a seat on the sofa, calming down a little. "Do you think that…Mother would have wanted that?"

At the mention of this, Dorian Quartermaine's hardened features went soft. He ran his hand over his gray hair, adjusting his ponytail. He sat down beside his only daughter and placed his hand on hers. "Of course I don't, Camille," he said gently. "Darling, you know that I will not be around forever. I only want someone to care for you after me."

"I am not exactly incapable of caring for myself, Father."

He looked into her radiant green eyes. "I know that, darling."

Sensing that this conversation was going to die down and an argument start in its place, Camille decided to kiss her father on the cheek and ready herself for bed.

"Well hurry up there child, the water ain't going to stay hot forever!" her maid said impatiently as she collected Camille's layers for her and set out her bedclothes.

"Oh, Annie," Camille said as Annie helped her undo her corset.

"So who'd ye refuse this time, eh? I'll suppose it were another one of the mayor's sons."

"The youngest, I'm afraid. I had to refuse Joseph," she admitted, starting to feel a small pang of guilt.

Annie stopped undoing the corset and looked at Camille, aghast. "Why, girl I could just slap you! What's gotten inta yer head! That young Mr. Joseph Black has been chasin' ya ever since he graduated from the university. She huffed, continuing on the corset. "Honestly, Miss Quartamaine…" she grumbled.

"Annie ye should've seen how he's changed the past couple o' years! Ever since he found out about me dad's lump o' money, e's been at it, just like the lot o' them!" Camille said, her Irish accent becoming stronger like it always did around Annie. They were very careful that Dorian had never overhead his daughter revert back to her Irish accent.

"Tha's just another grey hair yer givin' to Master Quartamaine now, young lady. Can't say he's tryin' to hide 'em…" (Annie's Jamaican, btw)

Camille giggled. "Annie, you know 'e would never wear one o' those ridiculous-looking wigs. Silly Brits and their odd traditions," she scoffed. Annie, Benjamin, and Camille's father were all American living in the British colonies.

With the corset and everything underneath finally off, Camille eased into her bath and eventually underneath the sheets of her own bed. She wasn't tired, and was rather angry about her umpteenth insincere marriage proposal. She reached under her pillow and slipped out her little book of poetry, which she read religiously. She'd had to buy it in secrecy because her father absolutely would not hear of Camille reading such rubbish and putting such wild thoughts into her head such as "true love".

She started as the door opened, but it was only Annie. "Forgive me Camille, but… she spied the book and put her hands on her hips. "Oh, so we're readin' those again, are we? Who is it this time?"

Camille laughed. "William Wordsworth."

Annie playfully snatched it up and began reading it in a mocking tone. "She Was A Phantom of Delight." She cleared her throat comically, throwing Camille into a fit of laughter. She continued to read, and as she did so pretended to wipe her eyes on her apron.

"She was a phantom of delight

When first she gleamed upon my sight

A lovely apparition, sent

To be a moment's or ornament;

Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;

Like twilight's too, her dusky hair;

But all things else about her drawn

From May-time and the cheerful dawn'

A dancing shape, an image gay,

To haunt, to startle, and waylay." She continued to read the next two stanzas and closed the book. "I think that if any man said these here words to me, I'd 'ave to question his sanity," she said, tossing it back to Camille. "Ye ain't waitin' fer a man to lay that load of nonsense, are ya?"

Camille slipped the book, back beneath the pillow, looking up at her mentor. "It would be nice."

"Girl you are going to be waitin' for a long time."

"Annie, I'm not saying that a man has to read and write poetry," she explained, her voice suddenly going proper again. "I mean, if any one of those men…just one-had shown that they even cared about the menial fact of my love of poetry…Annie, all they want to do is tell me about themselves; how rich they are, how pointless their accomplishments are. I don't think that any man has-has ever even stopped rambling on about himself to ask ME what MY favorite color is, or why I have a bit of an accent to my voice, or if I'm ever ale to sleep at night without hearing my song, or…" she took a deep breath. Her rant was over. "…or if I like the rain, or any of those questions. Do you know what I'm talking about, Annie?"

Annie nodded understandingly. "All too well hun; all too well. And it never did anyone no good to dwell on dreams like that." She began exiting the room, pulling the door shut. "Goodnight, Miss Camille."


	2. Gillette, Annie and Long John

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story. But then again, I do own half of them. By the way, the title and the poem "She Was a Phantom of Delight", is by William Wordsworth and I take absolutely no credit.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 2: Gillette, Annie, and Long John

The next morning, both of them were in town to buy shoes.

"I don't know why I need to buy another pair. Honestly, I've more than thirty," Camille complained, fanning herself in the hot sun.

"Quit yer whinin', girl. You've got nothin' to complain about. Your father gave you the money, didn't he?"

"Of course he did, he's simply loaded."

"Shh! Say it a little louder, would ya?"

"Loaded!" Camille said loudly, causing a few heads to turn. Like nobody knew her father was filthy rich already.

"Camille!" Annie nearly shouted. Her brown eyes flashed dangerously as she pulled Camille's wrist. "Now if ya can behave yourself…I hafta go buy some candles for my bedroom."

Camille walked over to Mrs. Sutton's shop and looked at the shoes in the display case. Did anyone honestly expect her to wear those? Her ankles would be seen for miles!

Through the glass, she could see a man walking with a rather funny stride. For some reason, she got a bad feeling about him. Knowing it would be best not to stare, she quickly turned the corner and went down an alleyway. She had hoped he would pass, but he began to follow her. She walked at a quicker pace, picking up her skirts and going further down the alley. She nearly lost her footing on the sparse cobblestones. She turned, having absolutely no idea where she was and hiding behind a corner. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to calm her breathing. She began to slowly and quietly tiptoe away, hearing the man as he approached.

All of a sudden a hand shot out from behind her and spun her around roughly. She hooted in surprise, staring into the stone cold face of a pirate.

She looked down. He only had one leg, and supported most of his weight on a crutch. She opened her mouth to scream, but he clapped a hand over it, pressing her back against a building on the side of the alley. There was no need to restrain Camille; she'd gone stiff as a board from the man's touch.

"There'll be no need to fret, little lady. I don't intend on hurtin' ye. I've seen where ye live, and I don't doubt he'll be after ye soon enough." He threw his head back and laughed. "Got a favor to ask of ye!" he said enthusiastically, producing a small key. He pressed it into the palm of her delicate hand before she knew what was happening or that she had a key.

The pirate started as they heard Annie's rough voice. She was at the far end of the alley, pointing and shouting. "There's the heathen!"

Two uniformed men began running towards him. He immediately released Camille. She felt like she was going to faint.

Annie ran over to her. "Miss Quartamaine! Miss Quartamaine, are you all right?"

"Miss Quartermaine!" the pirate called to her, struggling against the men. "Remember that the birds always fly towards the sun!"

Camille shook her head, leaning on Annie. "I saw him chase ya into the alley, Miss Camille! That damned pirate! Doing the devil's work, he was. Come now Camille, let's get you home."

Later that day she was seated in the drawing room, reading. There was a sudden knock on the door. She got up to answer it.

She almost staggered back in surprise. It was a redcoat! Here, in Port Celebros? It was…she tried not to gag herself.

"Good afternoon, Commodore," she greeted him.

He nodded politely. "Good afternoon, Miss Quartermaine. May I be so inclined as to speak with your father?" he asked in his British accent.

"Of course, Commodore. Won't you please come in?" she asked, just as politely. She took a couple of steps back. "Father?"

"I'm in here, Camille," Dorian's voice replied.

She poked her head into a room near the library. "Father, Commodore Norrington from the king's Royale Navy is here to speak with you."

"Ah!" Dorian said. He took off his spectacles and placed them on the table. Then he stopped. "Camille, did…did you answer the door?"

"I did. Peter has taken ill, so I told Annie I would do her duties so that she could take care of him, the poor little lamb."

"I see. But darling, you really must rest a bit. Your day has been difficult," he said gently, making his way to where the Commodore stood rigidly. He shook the Commodore's hand. "Ah, James. I am glad to see that you have received my telegram."

"Good afternoon, Dorian."

Dorian turned around to Camille. "Camille, you remember James Norrington."

Camille nodded and smiled politely. "I do. It is quite a pleasure, Commodore."

"Please come into my study, James. Camille, could I trouble you to put on some tea for our guest?" Dorian said, ushering the Commodore into a room.

Camille nodded, turning to make her way into the kitchen. "Thank you," Norrington said, smiling a small smile.

_I swear, if this man asks me to marry him_…she began thinking. The Commodore and her father were very good friends. Her father was on very good terms with the governor of Port Royale, and that was the reason Camille was being bombarded with a proposal from Norrington's right hand man, Gillette. Even the thought of him made her want to throw up.

She put a kettle over the fire, and in a few minutes she carried two piping hot cups of tea out into the room where her father and Norrington sat. Her father smiled.

"Camille, my dear, please sit down. You have done so much today already," he said kindly, motioning for her to have a seat. "It seems that the Commodore and his men have been searching here in Port Celebros for a pirate similar to the one who attacked you this morning."

"Father, please," she said, her hand falling to the key inside of her pocket. She hadn't decided what to do about it quite yet.

"My apologies, darling. Anyhow, it seems that Commodore Norrington and his men are in need of quartering for the next couple of evenings. I have invited him and one of his comrades to stay here in the mansion."

"Father, that is a wonderful idea!" she exclaimed, trying to hide her relief. Norrington chuckled.

"You may sleep peacefully tonight, Miss Quartermaine. Gillette and I will not let any pirates into this household," he assured her.

She blinked. "I'm sorry Commodore, but…did you say Gillette?"

"I did. And he is quite happy to see you again, might I add."

She gulped. The next two days were going to be a living hell.

The next two days did, in fact, turn out to be a living hell. Camille had managed to avoid Gillette until about the middle of the first day. Then, she'd absentmindedly wandered into the kitchen and been the victim of his egotistical prattling. If Mr. Black was conceited, Gillette was at least twenty times more conceited. Only two hours later was she saved by Benjamin.

She didn't mind Commodore Norrington at all. He mostly kept to himself, and was always polite and formal when addressing her and her father.

Two extremely long days later, they were finally out of the house. Camille collapsed on her bed, overwhelmed. Who did that stuck up little bastard think he was? He had taken more than every opportunity to kiss her hand, or take walks with her, or pull her chair out for her when she sat down to eat. She didn't know how to make it anymore blatantly obvious that she was not interested.

She watched at the key fell out of her pocket and onto the bed beside her. What was she going to do with it? And who had that strange, one-legged man been who'd given it to her? Unknowingly, she drifted off to sleep.

She woke up and put on her nightgown. Carefully placing the key in a pocket, he proceeded to light the candles around her room. She stopped when she heard a crash downstairs.

She left her room. The house was dark, and she leaned over the banister. "Annie?" she asked, receiving no reply.

She went down the stairs, expecting to find a pot that had fallen over because of an unlatched window. She went from room to room, checking the windows. None of them were open, and she began making her way back to her bedroom.

She stopped, slowly turning around. The front door was wide open, swinging back and forth slowly on its hinges. Noticing this, she was all of a sudden alert of someone behind her.

"Father!" she cried right before she felt a pair of strong hands grip her shoulders. She screamed and broke free, running right into a woman about her height.

She had dark skin and hair partially hidden by a bandana. She put a knife to Camille's throat. "They can't hear ya, love." The knife stopped Camille from struggling or making any noise as her arms were tied behind her.

Her mind raced. Was this because of the man with the key? Was this woman a pirate? Camille was so terrified, she wanted to start crying. She was shoved roughly through the house until they exited through the gardens and she was led to a rowboat. There was no way she could make an escape with a second pirate so close behind her.

She reluctantly got into the little boat and almost hyperventilated before she caught sight of their destination.

Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped as they approached the black ship. Every single thing about it looked unpleasant. Even the sails were black! There was a woman on the front of it looking through what seemed to be a telescope. She began nervously chewing on her lip as the three were hoisted up on deck.

The woman shouted. "Captain! I've brought her!" With that, she disappeared while the other pirate held Camille's arm firmly.

She heard a drawling voice. "Thank you Ana Maria." A man appeared, walking in sort of a saunter as he approached her. She tried to back up, but there was absolutely nowhere she could go.

He observed her state, and then looked accusingly at her captor. "Mr. Earl, did you tie this lady up?"

The man shook his head. "Nay, Cap'n. It was Ana Maria."

The captain rolled his eyes. "That woman should tie herself up. Mr. Earl, you are dismissed." He looked at her. "I am terribly sorry about that."

He untied her wrists, and caught her arm as she raised it to smack him. "Now I'm wonderin' why you would think to hit somebody who has just untied you from those shackles."

"Because you are the one who has ordered to have me kidnapped!"

"What? How do you know that my crewmembers were not just on their usual pillages and decided to bring you back with them?"

"Do you really think I am going to believe such rubbish out of a pirate's mouth?" she demanded angrily.

He released her and staggered back a bit, leaning on the banister of the ship. "All right then, I admit. I am going to keep you as a hostage on my ship until the ransom for you has been paid by your very affluent father. I believe you can understand that much."

"You mean the ransom, being his fortune that I am to inherit?"

He grinned. "I knew you'd be no dummy, but nobody told me that you would be quite so lovely," he said, taking a strand of her red hair and rubbing in between his fingers.

This time he wasn't ready. She slapped him as hard as she could, which was pretty hard. He made a face, rubbing the stinging sensation on his cheek. "I'm sure that I deserved that," he grumbled. "Well I suppose I could show you where you're going to be locked up for the time being."

"You untie me, then lock me up?"

He took her by the arm. "Well I can't have you goin' around deck slappin' people. It would be so unladylike."

She growled as he forced her down some stairs and into a musty room. Before he shut the door he said goodnight, causing her to attack the locked door pounding and screaming. He brushed himself off. "They can't keep themselves away," he said to himself.


	3. Dolphins

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story. WARNING: Long chapter. Sorry, I couldn't find a good cutoff point.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 3: Dolphins

"Mornin' Jack!" Gibbs called. He was already on deck by the time Jack came out of his quarters. "Looks like it's goin' to be a beauty of a day, sir." He elbowed Jack. "Quite a lot similar to that lady Ana and Earl brought aboard last night, eh?"

"Gibbs, has our prisoner been fed?"

He nodded. "Brought her food down just a moment ago. The lass was still sleepin'."

"Mr. Gibbs I would like to make sure that we can accommodate the little lady as much as possible. And judging by her attitude it's going to be quite the task. We're in this for the money, remember."

Gibbs nodded. "Aye, Cap'n."

Meanwhile, Camille was laying below deck listening to every noise the ship made as it rocked back and forth on the ocean. She felt slightly nauseous, but not nearly enough to be sick. She couldn't find the energy or the will to climb out of bed and touch whatever sort of food had been brought to her. At least they weren't going to let her starve; unless of course the food was poisoned. The slow realization of everything that was happening was just hitting her. She had never been away from her mansion in Port Celebros. She had never been on the sea, either. She knew nothing about ship, or even about pirates except for the fact that they were ruthless, perverted men that would cut your throat for so much as breathing the wrong way. Her eyes filled with tears as she rolled over.

"Eh? What's that?" Gibbs asked a man with a blue and yellow parrot on his shoulder.

"Awk! Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!" the parrot shouted.

"Cotton says he passed her room a couple of times today and heard the lass cryin'. Ye think we should let her get some air?"

Jack scratched his dreadlock covered head. Not only was he curious as to how Mr. Gibbs had interpreted a parrot, he was beginning to regret his decision to kidnap that girl. The last thing he needed was a crying, angry woman aboard his _Pearl_.

Camille dried her eyes, once again looking out her little window. She took some deep breaths, calming herself down. Her chest hurt from crying all day, and she was exhausted from the process. She was still as terrified as ever to even try to open the locked door, but she knew that she wouldn't get anywhere if she didn't even try to do anything about her situation.

Mustering up all the courage she could, she touched her little bare feet to the deck and walked toward the door. She felt her stomach growl and looked at the empty tray. She had already eaten all of the food. Perhaps if she could find her way to a kitchen, she could avoid any confrontations with anyone. That was, assuming, that the door was unlocked.

She tried the knob, and to her delight it turned. She poked her head out into the dark hallway, and after stumbling around for awhile she found what she assumed to be the kitchen. There was no food in sight that she could see, and the last thing she wanted to do was bang around with pots and pans and wake up a crew of pirates. Luckily, she found an apple.

Sighing as she made her way back to her room, she contemplated for a moment. She was sick of that room. Passing it and ascending the stairs, she bit into the apple and began walking on the deck.

She made her way to the bow and delicately ran her fingers along the designs in the wood. It was a beautiful ship, she realized as she looked around a little underneath the starlight. Then she noticed the stars. Taking a breath and looking up, she dropped the applecore over the side of the ship and began picking out constellations. She had never seen them like this before. There were no lights for miles.

"So you have a name, love?" Jack asked, appearing behind her.

She spun around in surprise, nearly toppling overboard. "What are you planning on doing with me?" she asked, her voice as steady as she could make it.

"To be perfectly honest, I'm not planning on doing anything except spending the money I will get for your safe return."

"Do you really expect me to believe that, either?"

He shrugged. "Believe what you want to, love. I'm as harmless as they come," he said flicking his wrist and dangling his hand in front of him.

She looked at him carefully, exercising her caution. The moonlight made him look very handsome, despite the fact the he was a loathsome pirate. She felt compelled to say something to him; she was suffering from loneliness. Not to mention, she felt depressed. Not only had she never been out to sea before, but the only friend she did actually have was Annie. Being around all these people made her feel like quite the outcast. She looked out at the neverending sea, feeling her eyes well up with tears again.

"Why are you afraid, love?" he questioned softly.

She swallowed back her tears. "Because you are Captain Jack Sparrow."

"Ah, I see you have heard of me, then."

"Everyone knows that Captain Jack Sparrow is the captain of the _Black Pearl_, the fastest ship in the Caribbean, and the only one with black sails," she answered glumly.

Jack hated to admit it, but he was very impressed by this girl's knowledge. "You are a very smart girl. Did you know that?"

She shook her head. "I know nothing except for the fact that my life is endangered."

Jack sighed. "Darling, your life is not endangered. I won't harm you, I promise."

"The promise of a lowly pirate means nothing," she said before she spat at his shoes.

"Well if that's the attitude that you are going to have towards me, than I've got no reason to be hospitable towards you. I'll bet that you will even go so far as to refuse telling me your name," Jack said crossly.

"I suppose you are right. As another shallow individual who wants to be in my presence for nothing more than the mere fact that you may catch a glimpse of my father's fortune, the lack of any social interaction with you will not be of any tremendous loss to me."

Jack stared at her, open-mouthed. It took him awhile to make sense of it, but sure enough she had insulted him. He stormed off belligerently, now truly regretting his decision.

She remained on deck. She was very impressed with herself for telling him off while she'd been literally quaking with fear.

Humming the familiar tune that her mother had taught her as a young girl, she was able to find that there was a sense of calmness to be found in the salty sea air. She grabbed the riggings of the ship and hoisted herself up a little bit. Stretching one hand out, she almost toppled overboard as the ship crashed over another wave.

She stood there until the sun's first rays had begun to appear just at the base of the water. Taking in another deep breath that smelled like the sea, Camille decided that with the exception of the pirates it wasn't so bad after all.

Hearing noises below, she realized that the crew was beginning to assemble. Not quite sure what to expect, she made her way back downstairs and took a few wrong turns before accidentally finding the kitchen again.

A stout little man with a grey beard and a balding head looked and grinned, bringing some unwanted attention to her arrival.

"Well, jus' look who be up this early in th' mornin'! Did ye come to help us with the daily chores or was ye jus' lookin' fer a bite to eat?" he asked.

"I…I don't know," she said quietly, looking down.

"Now, there's no need to be shy, missy. The name's Gibbs," he offered.

"I'm Camille."

Gibbs laughed and smacked his knee, looking around at his crewmates. "There, you see that? The girl's already cuperatin' with us!"

"It's co-operatin' Gibbs, ya nincompoop," Ana Maria said, passing by. She got right in Camille's face, glaring at her. "Ye've got guts, girl, I'll grant ya that. But don't expect any o' us to go easy on ya because yer a lady."

"Awk! Wind in the sails, wind in the sails!" Cotton's parrot said.

Gibbs nodded. "I believe Cotton said, 'Go stick it in yer ear Ana Maria, she's more of a lady than you'll ever be'." He cringed as she nearly shoved him off the bench, making her way out of the kitchen. Gibbs leaned over to the men. "And that be the abridged version," he whispered, causing the crew to erupt in laughter.

She sat there stiffly. Well, she certainly couldn't label them as dangerous yet. So far, all they'd done was proven themselves to be half mad and fed her.

All of a sudden she realized just how exhausted she was from staying up all night and crying. She stood up. "Mr. Gibbs, you may tell Captain Sparrow that if he needs me I will be in my room."

Gibbs nodded, taking a sip from his little leather flask. "Aye, missy."

She didn't wake up until about midafternoon, but found an old blue dress lying on the bed. She tried it on, finding that it was rather loose on her. She was grateful that she did not have to wear a corset, however. She brushed her hair, but let it down so that it fell over her shoulders and down her back.

She made her way on deck, squinting in the sunlight. After watching the men scramble about for a moment, she felt a gentle tug on her dress. She looked down, finding a small man. He was completely bald, but had a little black beard. His face was twisted into a frown. "Captain says yer supposed to cook dinner," he grunted.

"Oh, does he really?" she asked. Picking up her dress, she moodily made her way downstairs. So that's what this was going to be? Just when she thought that this misfortune would be the beginning of at least something different, she found herself right back in the old routine. Cooking, cleaning, listening to pigheaded men and their lies…

She was in a terrible mood while she prepared the food, but in a while small groups of crewmembers began to wander into the kitchen.

She recognized the man who'd assisted Ana Maria in capturing her. She stiffened as he approached, but he only nodded humbly. "The name's Earl, Miss. I only wanted to tell ye that, well, I think that this is the best meal I've ever had aboard the _Pearl_."

"What?" she said, feeling like she was going to blush.

"E's right, you know," another man chimed in. "I ain't had food like this since me Mum died."

"Awk! Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!"

"Oh, really," she said, waving her hand. "It can't be all that good. I didn't even have much to work with."

By the time the meal was over and she was done serving the food, some of the men even offered to help her with the dishes. She was now in a wonderful mood all over again like she had been looking at the stars.

She thought about Captain Sparrow, and how she hadn't seen him at all that day. Maybe she'd really wounded his pride by saying that to him last night. But she did have every right; after all, he'd kidnapped her! Her father was probably worried sick right now. A pirate, having a heart…doubtful.

She left the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron and placing it on a barrel. She made her way up the steps and to the stern of the boat, again, leaning over the railing. She jumped when she saw some small grey shapes appear on the surface. There were several of them, and they shot out mist.

She followed them around to the port side and watched as what looked like three or four giant fish leaped out of the water and dove back in. She blinked in disbelief. They did it again, all at separate times.

"They're called dolphins," Jack said approaching the banister and look to them.

She clutched her chest. "Don't do that!" she yelled in surprise.

"Sorry," he apologized, putting his hand together in a praying motion and slightly bowing.

"Those are dolphins? I've heard of them, but I've never seen them," she said, forgetting her anger with Jack and being transfixed on the creatures.

"Aye, those are dolphins. Mammals o' the sea, you could say."

"Mammals, Captain?"

He pointed to the little dolphin's blowholes. "You see there those little holes on top of their heads; where the seaspray is coming out?"

She nodded.

"That's how they breathe the air."

"Really?"

Jack nodded. "Aye." It was just then that she noticed Jack holding a few dead fish. He held one over the side of the ship and dangled it a little. A dolphin appeared, shooting straight up out of the water at the side of the ship. Jack dropped the fish, and the dolphin caught it right in its teeth.

Camille looked on in wonder. Jack held out a fish to her. "Would you like to try, missy?"

She made a face. "Must I touch it?"

"Well I supposed you could feed him a nice roast just as well, but I doubt he'd appreciate it as much."

She took the fish between her thumb and forefinger and held it over the side. She was just about to drop it into the same dolphin's mouth when another one came out of nowhere and intercepted it. Camille pulled back her hand in surprise, but Jack began laughing.

"So…so these are the creatures that are mistaken for mermaids, then?" she asked.

Jack was impressed again that she had such knowledge of folklore. He nodded as he handed her another fish. "Aye, that they are. Most of those men have never really seen a mermaid, though. There is a very distinct difference in the flipper," he explained.

She dropped a fish. "Do you mean to tell me that you have actually seen a mermaid?" she asked incredulously.

"My dear, there is barely a thing in this world that I haven't seen," he said casually. "Why, I could tell you stories upon stories and…" he stopped in short as he realized what he was doing. He watched her drop the last fish into the water and wipe her hand off on her blue dress. "What's your favorite color, love?"

She froze, slowly turning to face him and looking very unsure. "What?"

He leaned on his hand. "Well I know it's a difficult question, but I'd imagined you'd have had one all picked out by now."

"Green," she said quickly.

"Is it now?" he said, smiling. "I've always liked blue, myself. Color of the sea, you know. Why are you giving me such an odd look?"

"I'm sorry. No one has ever asked me a thing about myself before. Well, no man has, rather," Camille admitted.

Jack lifted an eyebrow suspiciously. "Just what kind of men have you been hanging around with, love?"

She sighed, watching the playful dolphins. "Not the kind I miss."

He chuckled. "Got some bitter feelings about those suitors, eh?"

"And just how do you know abut that?" she asked putting her hand on her hips and taking her focus off the dolphins. Now the anger was coming back.

"Love, I am a pirate. Do you think I would go to Port Celebros and not be snooping around one of the largest estates. You're quiet noisy when you get frustrated, by the way."

"You were eavesdropping on me? That is so incredibly rude!"

"Well, I have no manners," he said, coming closer to her. "I am a filthy, lying, stealing, manipulative pirate," he said, coming closer with each adjective until he was so close that she could observe the kohl lining around his chocolate brown eyes and every incredible hair on that braided beard of his. He grinned evilly, exposing three golden teeth.

Camille was by this time quite uncomfortable. She was again unable to back up. "Uhm, Captain Sparrow, about your personal space boundaries…"

He backed up immediately. "Apologies, love," he said, making a sweeping motion with his hands.

Camille began descending the steps, passing Jack's quarters after she did so. She turned back around. Something in particular caught her eye. She turned back around to face him. "Captain, might I borrow that?" she asked politely, indicating the object.

He entered and came back out holding a guitar. "This old thing? You can keep it. I can't make it sound halfway decent."

She took it, cradling it gently as if it were a baby. "Thank you, Captain. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, missy."


	4. Drinking Games

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 4: Drinking Games

Camille slept a little better that evening, and after breakfast the next morning was able to steal some time to herself and actually get the guitar tuned correctly. The strings on it were almost brand new, so she barely had any trouble at all as she used her voice as a tuning instrument.

When she was done she excitedly began rapidly playing the old Irish tunes her mother had taught her as a little girl. She started out quietly, but eventually got louder and bolder as she continued. She had almost forgotten what time it was, and flew down the hallway to make dinner.

Ana Maria was already in the kitchen, peeling potatoes. She glanced at Camille. "Ah, there ya are. I thought the boys were going ta have another disappointin' meal."

"Oh, I wouldn't to that to the men," Camille said, forgetting and using her Irish accent.

Ana Maria lifted an eyebrow. "Ye've got an accent now?"

She slapped her hand over her mouth. "Please don't tell anyone about it," she pleaded.

"Why?"

"Because it wouldn't be proper of me."

Ana Maria put down the potato she was holding, scouring about for a pot. "Incase ya haven't noticed lass, There be no one here to be proper around. I doubt the rest o' the crew will mind either way."

Camille sighed, putting the potatoes into a pot. "I suppose you're right."

Ana Maria chuckled lightly. "Heard ya playin' earlier. Didn't know ye was Irish."

"Yes, well not many do. Men are too in love with themselves to find out what makes a woman happy."

Ana Maria scowled at the table. "Aye, ain't that the truth," she said sourly.

Camille went about, slicing up the rest of the vegetables. She didn't want to ruin the good streak she was having with the rest of the crew.

"So Ana Maria, where are you from?" she asked.

"Jamaica. Me mother moved just after me father passed, God rest his soul," she paused to cross herself, "and by the time I was old enough to understand that 'twas me fate to be sold into slavery, she stowed me away on a cargo ship and I took te the sea ever since. Only family I've got is me mum's younger sister; lives somewhere up around Port Royale."

"Oh, I see. What was her name, can you remember?"

"Sure do. It was Annette Williams."

Camille nearly sliced off her finger at the mention of Annie's name. She whirled around to face Ana Maria. "Annie! She's a maid in my father's household!"

Ana Maria's eyes widened, and then narrowed. "You mean to tell me that my aunt is waiting hand and foot on you and yer rich father?" she demanded.

Camille shook her head. "Absolutely not! Dear Annie has ever been my friend and mentor. Why, she practically raised me after my mother's death. She has an even bigger room than I do," she said sincerely.

"She had damn well better," Ana Maria said, calming down. "My family-people were not meant to serve other people and spend their lives miserable."

"Oh Ana Maria, It's the way I've been brought up! I never knew that households existed without maids."

She sighed. "No, I supposed ye wouldn't. And for that alone ye should count yer blessin's. We didn't all have it so charming, you know."

"I know that, and believe me, I have never treated Annie as if I were any better than her. Why, it's all I can do to watch her children whenever she needs me to."

"Annie has children?"  
Camille nodded. "Two of them, a boy and a girl. The boy, Peter is 7 and little Sheila is of 3."

"I would like nothin' better than to meet 'em someday."

"Well, when I am returned to my father perhaps something can be arranged. Possibly," she said, wondering how that would go.

That evening the crew got a taste of not only Camille's cooking, but her background as well as she taught them just about every tune she could remember. They loved it, and there was dancing and singing until the early hours of the morning.

Captain Sparrow watched his crew, thoroughly amused as Gibbs and the rest explained how they were having as wonderful a time as any night in Tortuga. He cringed as it was obvious that Mr. Earl had gotten hold of the guitar he had given to Camille. He found the giggling redhead losing a game of poque to Mr. Cotton and his parrot.

She moaned and threw the cards all over the deck, scattering them. Looking up, she was able to slowly focus on the captain. He didn't have his hat or coat on. She laughed. "Hullo, Jack," she said drunkenly. She had just finished off her 5th bottle of straight rum, which she was surprised she was holding down.

Jack was only on his third, being the professional drunk that he was. "Mr. Cotton, what's this?" he asked, indicating the intoxicated woman. "Exactly how much rum did you let her have?"

"Jack…Jack, don't worry. I've only had a couple," she assured him.

"That would be _Captain_ Jack Sparrow to you, love," he corrected.

She nodded. "Sorry. Captain Sparrow love Jack…that's what I said," she slurred as she tried to stand up. She reached for the bottle in his hand and missed, almost losing her balance.

He caught her and held her steady. "Careful, love. I think you have had quite enough."

"Oh, come on now," she protested.

"So do you always get an accent when you're drunk?" he asked her.

"That's right, I'm an…I'm an acc-I am DRUNK!" she shouted triumphantly. A few pirates raised their bottles and cheered.

"Captain drunk, who steers this thing?" she asked, holding onto him to keep her balance.

Jack nodded toward the helm, where Mr. Cotton's parrot was steering. "Trained him myself. You know, just incase any of us onboard are unable to properly steer. Most times we are."

He kept his grip on her as she stumbled and began to laugh hysterically. He couldn't help but start laughing with her. "You're a lot more tolerable like this, did you know that?"

"Ah, I just needed to loosen up…uh oh," she said, turning around and stumbling towards the edge of the ship. She was able to pull her hair back just as she threw up.

Jack stood back a little, giving her some privacy. She coughed afterwards, moaning and wiping her mouth on her dress as she staggered backwards. He resumed his position of holding her steady.

"I feel awful," she said slowly.

"I'll bet you do. Come on, let's get you into bed," he said, picking her up and carrying her.

"But…but Jack I'm not tired. I'm not…I'm not a pirate."

He carried her down to her room, and she fell onto her bed, again laughing hysterically. Jack tried to get up, but she grabbed his shirt and pulled him towards her. "Jack!" she said in between fits of laughter. Then she stopped and looked at him. "Jack, I want you…I want you to kiss me."

He looked at her. "I'm sorry love, I can't do that," she said apologetically, loosening himself from her grip. "You're drunk, darling."

She stuck her lower lip out, pouting. "But Jack," she begged.

"Now, don't give me those crocodile tears. Put that lip back in," he said, standing up.

She put her hand out. "Jack, my name is Camille Quartermaine," she said taking his hand and falling backwards onto the bed. "What's your name," she said as she began slurring her words.

"The name's Jack Sparrow, love. And it's very nice to finally be introduced to you, Miss Camille. Goodnight."

Camille woke up feeling very groggy. It took her a few minutes to remember what she had done last night, and all she could remember was the captain in her bedroom. "Ah!" her hand flew to her head as a throbbing began. Had she been drinking last night? Sitting up, her covers fell off, and she noticed that her dress was barely on. It wasn't hooked in the back, and her stockings were off!

Without thinking, she began screaming. "NO!" she cried. "No, this cannot be happening to me!" She made one final shriek and flew out of bed, proceeding to fasten her dress in the back.

She heard a knock on the door. "You all right, love?" It was none other than Jack's voice. Hearing it drove her nearly to tears, she was so frustrated. She continued storming about the room, not calming down.

"I'm coming in," Jack said as he opened the door. As soon as he did she slapped him harder then she had the first time. "Ouch!" he cried.

"Keep away from me, you perverted bastard! How…how _dare_ you take advantage of me like that!"

"Camille, what are you talking about?" he asked, rubbing his cheek tenderly.

"Don't call me by my first name, you lowly pirate! You shall refer to me as Miss Quartermaine, and when we return to Port Celebros I will make sure that you are hanged for all to see!"

Jack was so confused. He knew that women were moody, and this one must be especially angry because she most likely wasn't feeling too well from the drinking last night…the drinking…

"Miss Quartermaine, what exactly do you remember about last night?"

"What else do I need to? I remember you in my bedroom and I woke up with my clothes half off. It's obvious you've had your way with me!"

Jack's jaw dropped in amazement. Was she actually accusing him of taking full advantage of her drunken state? He may have been a pirate, but that was no excuse to accuse him of mistreating women. "So you're saying that I took advantage of you. I see," he said darkly, leaving the room with her still yelling and ranting.

He got on deck. "All right Gibbs, I'll take the helm now. There's been a change of plans. Inform the crew that we are to dock as soon as possible."

"Cap'n?" Gibbs asked questioningly.

"We're dropping _her_ off as soon as possible."

"But what about the ransom?"

Jack turned around to face Gibbs, his eyes furious. "Gibbs, we are dropping the hostage off as soon as possible!" he bellowed.

Mr. Gibbs bit his tongue, nodding humbly. "Aye, Cap'n."


	5. An Unsettling Compromise

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 5: An Unsettling Compromise

Camille was lying on her bed, trying to control the nausea and the headache that she felt overwhelming her at the same time. The pain had eased a little, but she still felt miserable and even more so now that she had been violated by the only man who'd ever asked her a question about herself.

Sitting up, she looked out her small window. She played with the edge of her dress, straining to see any dolphins out the window. But all she could see was a wave crashing against the ship.

She managed to go that day avoiding as much of the crew as possible, especially Jack. Camille picked up her guitar to play, plucked a few strings, and put it down again. She didn't feel like doing anything.

When she heard a knock on the door she jumped up, ready to defend herself. She put her hand to her chest when Ana Maria entered the room.

"How's the headache?" she asked.

"Miserable. I feel terrible," Camille replied. "I don't know what caused me to drink so much last night, I can't even remember what happened."

"Girl, I've got somethin' to tell ye that I think might put things in a bit of a better perspective fer ya."

Camille's eyes narrowed. "Don't tell me that you are here to defend your so called 'Captain'."

Ana Maria crossed her arms. "He didn't do nothin' to ya, girl. You were so drunk last night that he carried you to your room, and I came in this mornin' to change you since you were a mess. You were out cold and I couldn't get ya to move, so I gave up when yer dress was halfway on and tucked ya in. I meant to tell ya when you woke up but you was too busy yellin' at Jack."

"What? Ana Maria, you have got to be joking. Jack's a-a…"

"A bloody pirate?"

"Yes, exactly!"

Ana Maria sighed. "Just because we're swashbucklers doesn't mean that we ain't people, too."

Camille just looked at her, perplexed. It hadn't been Jack?

"I think you owe the captain an apology, even if it does mean lettin' go of yer pride for a while."

Camille stood up, swooning from her massive hangover. "And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that just because ye got more money than most of us, it don't mean that you can treat people badly," Ana Maria said as she turned around and left.

Camille was furious! Those pirates, who had kidnapped her and taken her away from HER home and HER father were telling her how to treat people? Who did they think they were?

Then she laid back down on the bed, thinking despite the constant pounding in her head. Perhaps Ana Maria had been right. The crew of this pirate ship was the only real interaction she had. For a very long time, the only people she had talked to were her maids, Peter, Sheila, and the hundreds of suitors. But the suitors didn't count. She remembered that night out on the deck. He looked at her in the middle of his story and asked her something, like he genuinely cared for her.

Holding her head, she made her way out of the room and towards the captain's quarters. She knocked lightly three times. "Captain Sparrow, I wish to speak with you," she requested.

No reply. She scanned the deck quickly, and spotted a rather large hat belonging to a man at the helm. She picked up her dress and made her way over to him. "Captain Sparrow," she said addressing him. "Captain Sparrow, I would like to apologize for my rude behavior this morning."

He ignored her, staring off into the distance and glancing at his little compass once in a while.

"Captain Sparrow? Jack, did you hear me?"

"It's _Captain_ Jack Sparrow to you, missy. Save yourself the breath, you'll be off this 'god forsaken hellhole' soon enough."

"Captain, you don't understand. I said I was sorry," she said, her temper rising again.

He turned and looked at her, just as impatient. "Sometimes words don't do it," he said through his teeth.

"Then what will?" she demanded.

"I wouldn't worry about that if I were you, it doesn't involve any money your father can give me to make up for your arrogance," he said smoothly.

She staggered back, feeling like he'd just hit her in the face. "Do you think that's what I am? Some rich, snobbish girl who has her father write a check every time she does something?" She was now about to cry, because her head ached and she still felt miserable on top of all this. "Captain, I have never been away from my father or my home, not once. And now, well, here I am; alone, on a ship with the people I've been told my entire life to avoid, hungover…do you think that my father can help me out of this?" she practically screamed.

Jack leaned against the wheel, slightly amused at this output of emotions. "He already did if he offered the ransom, missy."

She began crying, putting her hands to her face. There was no way she would ever get off this ship and away from these people. They were all heartless. And more than anything now, she wanted off this ship and away from the fearless Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of miscreants.

Jack sighed. "Listen, we are weighing anchor as soon as possible at the next port. I will make sure to send word to your father so that he knows where you are."

She tried to calm down a little, listening to the captain. "Captain Sparrow, Ana Maria told me what happened," she admitted.

Jack turned back to the helm. "I suppose she did. But you still don't want anything to do with us."

"Jack, my entire life I've been told that pirates are the most dangerous people I could ever encounter and not to encounter them. Do you think that you could for one second put yourself in my shoes and-"

"Why don't you put yourself in mine?" Jack yelled suddenly, scaring Camille. He threw his hands up in the air, turning on his heel. "Forget it! I can't compete with haughtiness such as yours. Earl, take the helm!"

Camille huffed. If he wasn't going to accept her apology, than what was the point? She stared out at the sea for a while and tried to calm down, but some dark clouds began forming. She went back down to her room and stared at the guitar in the corner. Looking out of her little window, she thought she could see a tiny bit of trees. Land! She would soon be free! Sighing with relief, she picked up the guitar in the corner of the room and rushed up the stairs. Even though it was early afternoon, it was very dark out.

Feeling the wind chill her bones, she made her way to Jack's quarters. She was planning on simply knocking and dropping it off, but as she raised her fist to knock on the door the ship suddenly lurched forward. Crying out in surprise, she fell on the door causing it to open under her weight. Toppling inside, she quickly sat up preparing to apologize. But other than a candle burning on a desk, the cabin was empty.

She saw a flash of lightning move across the sky and was able to steady herself when the ship rocked again. Setting the guitar down, she was able to catch the candle as it tipped off the desk. There was already wax everywhere, and she tried not to let it drip on the papers Jack had scattered everywhere.

Setting the candle back down and steadying it, her eye caught a seal on one of the envelopes. It had already been opened, but the seal was a little British emblem that she recognized very well. It belonged to Governor Swann of Port Royale.

Looking up to make sure no one was in sight, she shut the door and went back over to the desk, scanning the letter.

_To Captain Jack Sparrow,_

_I'm afraid that I have received some very troubling news of recent events over in Port Celebros. It seems that Mr. Quartermaine, the wealthiest estate owner of the town, is very distraught over the kidnapping of his only daughter. I also happen to know that Miss Quartermaine is the heiress of a very grand fortune which has been put up as ransom for her promised safe return from her kidnappers. Of course neither Elizabeth nor the Governor know of this, but I thought that I would send you a letter in private. I assumed you would have something to do with this my friend, or at least know who is behind this. I am writing this mainly to warn you that once again, the King's Royale Navy is after you and the Black Pearl, since you are the last known pirate ship in the Caribbean. If you have any information about the young girl, I suggest you use that cunning that I know you so well for possessing._

_Sincerely,_

_William Turner_

William Turner? Who was he and why was he using the Governor's seal? He obviously lived in the Governor's household or had some close connection with the Governor. Why was he writing to Jack? Was he some sort of spy? And the fortune had been turned into a ransom! So Jack's plan had worked after all.

She jumped as she heard the doorknob turn, ducking under the desk as she heard heavy footsteps scrape across the cabin. The storm was calming down a bit, but the place was still rocking side to side and Camille had to hold herself steady and pray that she would not bump into anything. The captain was already cross with her as it was.

As she tried not to breathe, she looked in the only direction she could which faced a bookshelf. There were rolled up things, and a few treasure maps sprawled across the floor below the books. But something else intrigued her. She could see several poetry books on the shelves. She wondered if they had ever been touched.

Her thinking process stopped as she could hear Jack picking up the letter. He mumbled while reading it, and paced back and forth several times. "Oh, dear William," he said to himself. "How very well you know me." She tried to bury herself a little deeper as he began making his way towards the bookshelf, and then turned around at the sound of Ana Maria's voice.

"Captain!"

He exited the cabin, and she sighed with relief. As she straightened up, she let out a little shriek as one of the books toppled off the shelf. Kneeling next to it, she could see the open pages. She almost smiled. "William Wordsworth," she said slowly, not believing it at first.

"She was a phantom of delight," Jack's voice said from the other side of the cabin. He was sitting at a table, with his feet propped up. His coat and hat were hung up. "One of my personal favorites."

She looked up, petrified. "Captain Sparrow, I'm sorry. I meant no intrusion, I was going to return the guitar and I-"

"Shush love, I know. I saw the entire ordeal."

She straightened up, bringing the book with her. "You did?"

"I would make a very poor captain if I didn't know everything that was happening on my own ship. And speaking of so, you make a very poor snoop. You set the letter down wrong and everything."

"I was not snooping," she said, raising her nose slightly.

"Now if we are going to have this talk my dear, I suggest that we keep our noses and egos at the same level. Savvy?"

She nodded humbly. "Yes, Captain."

He motioned for her to come closer. "Bring that book over here, I haven't read it in quite some time. You can come too if you like."

She approached him and he avidly began leafing through it. She cleared her throat. "So…so you're not angry with me?"

"Well I was, I won't lie to you. But then I did get to thinking about what you said, and I suppose you could never be expected to understand the ways of a swashbuckler such as myself."

"I suppose not. But to be fair Captain Sparrow, I don't think that you know as much about proper ladies."

"That may be quite true, love."

"For one, they don't like to be called 'love' all the time by a person they do not know."

He took his feet off the table, placing the book on its spine, and narrowed his eyes at her. "Are we going to have this attitude again, Miss Camille?"

"I apologize, Captain."

"You've developed quite a nasty habit of talking down to men, did you know that?"

"With all due respect, Captain, if you had to deal with all of the suitors I have in the past two and a half years you'd have lost a bit of respect for them yourself," she spat, having a bit of her accent more prevalent.

"Honestly, it can't be that bad having men wrapped around your little finger."

"None of them would even know my name if it weren't for the fortune I am entitled to inherit. I believe that you are no different, Captain Sparrow."

"Ah, now that's where you are wrong my dear," he said, standing up. "I am very different from those two and a half years worth of suitors."

"You are not. You, like the rest of them, only want me for the money."

"Perhaps," he said patiently, drumming his fingers on the table. "But unlike the rest, I am certainly no gentleman," he said, moving his face closer to hers.

"If you try to kiss me you will pull away with one less body member," she threatened.

Jack's eyes widened. "How unladylike!" he exclaimed.

"Since you are no gentleman, I see no reason for me to be a lady," Camille said cunningly. She gasped as a sudden lurch sent her flying forward into Jack. He steadied her.

"Not too good even when we're sober, eh?"

She pushed him away and scowled at him. "Perhaps you didn't take advantage of me this time, but that means nothing."

"Love…"

"My name is Camille."

"And it is a lovely name."

She was about to tell him that she would not miss him, when he reached around and grabbed her backside firmly. She yelped, slapping him as hard as she could.

He laughed, rubbing his cheek. "It was well worth it, darling."

"You bastard!" she screamed, picking up her dress and stomping out of his cabin into the raging storm.


	6. Better Than Him

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 6: Better Than Him

Later that evening, they had finally arrived at their destination. It was a small port called Tortuga. Jack and Mr. Gibbs went with her in the rowboat, and as they went ashore Camille covered her ears as she heard several gunshots ring out.

Gibbs only laughed. "There be no need to be frightened, Miss Camille," he chuckled as he grabbed her lightly by the arm. She was led to what she suspected was a whorehouse. The three of them stepped inside and immediately Gibbs was gone, flirting with one of the ladies. Camille was completely disgusted.

"Now you are going to be a good girl and go on upstairs and change your clothes," Jack told her.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"You just leave that up to me, darling," he said. She cleared her throat. "Sorry," he quickly apologized.

Thinking as she made her way upstairs, she found an empty room and began raiding a dresser. She felt like a complete criminal, and looked over her back several times as she dug through the dresses. She was finally able to find one that didn't look as bad or as trashy as the rest. It was a pretty green one lined with gold. The only things for shoes were boots, so she reluctantly put them on and did her hair.

Making her way back downstairs to the crowded vicinity, she spotted Jack's big hat bobbing up and down as he sat at a table drinking rum and chatting with Gibbs. Making her way over to the table, she had to sit down before Jack even noticed that it was her.

"Captain Sparrow exactly what was your plan?" she nearly demanded.

He set his rum down. "Well actually, Gibbs and I just came to make sure you got here safely. You can pretty much do the rest on your own."

"You mean to tell me that I am supposed to sell myself in order to get to Port Celebros?" she yelled, standing up and scraping the chair across the floor.

"Well with a body like that I don't suppose anyone could refuse," Jack said, shrugging. Camille resisted the urge to slap him because she could now see that this was how he usually was. It wasn't worth getting angry over again and again.

"Obviously you are, Mr. Sparrow."

He cleared his throat nonchalantly. "Ahem. It's Captain, love."

"A captain would require some sort of respect," she retorted.

Gibbs looked frightened, but Jack just waved his hand. "Pity not everyone can be this grateful," he replied sarcastically.

"I hope I never see you again," she whispered fiercely as she turned around to leave. Now she was utterly alone. Not only did she not have her family, but she had been taken to the middle of nowhere. How was she supposed to get back in a respectful, honest way? No one there would know who she was if she explained her story to them. Her eyes filled up with tears.

As she stomped towards the front door, she almost screamed when she saw a bright red coat. There were two soldiers from the King's Navy entering! The first thing she thought of was that little pain Gillette and spending the rest of her days sitting in the drawing room listening to him prattle on about his meaningless accomplishments.

Before she knew it, she was heading back to the table that Jack Sparrow sat at. Gibbs had left, probably with one of the harlots. She sat down at the table across from the pirate, and he gave her a strange look as if he was afraid to say anything to upset her. "I've decided that anything is better than going back to him," she explained.

He lifted an eyebrow, lifting his rum and downing the remaining amount. Turning around, he could see the two redcoats across the room. "Is that why?"

She looked at him. "You don't understand." Her eyes widened as they began making their way through the crowded room. Leaning across the table, she took the captain by his puffy shirt and pulled him close to her, kissing him until she was sure that they had left.

A bunch of thoughts raced through her head as she did this, and the only conclusion she could come to was that she was on her own now. She had never been on her own before, and was quite frightened.

As she pulled away from the stunned captain, she sat back and wondered what she had just done. She put her hand to her lips, tasting the bitter taste of rum which had been quite prevalent in Jack's mouth.

"Now I'm curious as to why you would think of doing that," Jack asked in a rather mellow tone.

"I…Jack, I'm sorry. I just…" she tried to think of an excuse, but couldn't come up with one. She stood up to leave, but he reached out and caught her wrist.

"Do you need my protection? Is that why you came to the _Pearl_?"

"What?" It took a minute before she noticed four other empty cups on the table. "Oh, you're drunk. I see. Well I suppose it's best that way."

"Love I may be tipsy, but I am certainly not drunk. Captain Jack Sparrow does not get drunk," he tried correcting her, but instead swooned in his seat.

"Jack, I really don't think that you should have any more to drink," Camille insisted.

"Excuse me, Miss Quartermaine," a stern voice behind her said.

Gasping, she spun around. The soldiers! They hadn't gone, after all! There were three of them standing right there, and they all had their guns pointed at the pirate. She didn't know whether to leap for joy from seeing an opportunity out of this mess, or cry because she had to go back to her routine of putting up with Gillette and shallow men. Her eyes began to fill with tears as she realized that she just missed being home.

Thinking quickly, she grabbed one of the guards and thrust him between her and the captain. "Oh, thank God! Thank God you have come to rescue me, I knew my father would save me!" she said gratefully. One of the guards took her by the arm.

"It's all right, Miss Quartermaine. You're under the protection of the King's Royale Navy now," he assured her.

She breathed a long sigh of relief as they forced Jack to his feet and demanded that he hand over his pistol to them. Jack did so reluctantly, looking almost frightened. Perhaps it was just the alcohol. Gibbs was absolutely nowhere in sight.

"Good work gentlemen, very good work," a low voice said behind her. She nearly cringed at hearing it, afraid as she slowly turned around. The voice belonged to Commodore James Norrington, and that meant…

"Camille? Camille my dear, are you all-" it was that nitwit Gillette, running forward and placing his arms around her like he had actually cared. "Oh Camille, thank God you're unharmed! I was so worried about what this lowlife scum was planning on doing with you," he said as he held his bayonet right to Jack's throat. Jack did not look threatened at all, but he did raise his eyebrows a bit at Gillette's next comment.

"You will be hanged for kidnapping my fiancé, Mr. Sparrow," he threatened.

FIANCE! "Excuse me," Camille interjected politely.

Gillette turned to face her. "Yes, my dear?"

She had to swallow to keep the bile from rising up from her stomach. "Did you just refer to me as your fiancé, Gillette?"

He nodded proudly. "I did, Camille. I couldn't accept the money from your father, so he offered me your hand in marriage. We are to be wed immediately upon our return to Port Celebros."

That was it. Camille couldn't handle it anymore. She fainted, and everything went black.


	7. Fly Towards the Sun

Disclaimer: I don't own half of the characters in this story.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 7: Fly Towards the Sun

She woke up still dressed in the green dress that she had maintained at the whorehouse. Blinking, she could not recognize the inside of the ship. It must have been one from the fleet at Port Celebros. She sat up, trying to accurately recall recent events. If Captain Jack Sparrow and this _Black Pearl_ had been simply a dream, than she would not have been wearing that dress. So that meant that Jack Sparrow had been real. And he was probably locked up in the brig down below.

Getting to her feet, she pushed the door of the room open a crack and peered out. There was nobody in sight, so she silently walked across the deck and downstairs to where most of the cabins were.

Growling to herself, she held back a scream as she bumped into Norrington. He seemed surprised to see her. "Up so soon, Miss Quartermaine? Would you like me to escort you back to your cabin to finish getting your rest?"

"Uhm, no thank you Commodore. There is something which I would like to personally discuss with Gillette," she lied.

"I see. You will find him at the last door on the left," he instructed her. "Good day, Miss Quartermaine."

"Thank you, Commodore."

Of course, that was the only place she did not check. She was able to find the brig easily enough, shutting the door and sliding a heavy object in front of it to keep it closed.

Jack was sitting on the floor of his little cell, and he looked quite comfortable except for the blood that was dripping down his arm. She covered her mouth to avoid screaming. "Captain Sparrow, what on earth happened to your arm?" she demanded in a whisper.

He looked up at her, just noticing her. "Your fiancé decided to shoot me even though you were safely returned in one piece."

She looked around, seeing the ring of keys hanging on a nail. She got it and began going through it, trying each key on the lock. She got it open on the second try.

"He is not my fiancé," she protested.

"All right then, what is he?" Jack sneered as she entered the cell.

"That man," she said, kneeling down at Jack's side. "Is the most pompous, most inflated, and overall most boring creation that the good Lord has ever put onto this earth," she said, reverting to her accent. "If I 'ave to even THINK about sittin' through another one o'his lame stories about how he fought for this war an' that, I think I may 'ave to kill myself."

He looked at her with no expression on his face at all, blinking. This was not what he had been expecting her to say. "Good girl," he said, being very impressed with her comment. "Now what are you doing?"

"Any enemy of Gillette is a friend of mine," she said, gently taking his arm. "What can I do to help you escape?"

The look in her pretty green eyes was so sincere, Jack didn't even have time to be sarcastic. And his arm throbbed with pain. He was beginning to feel lightheaded from all of the blood loss, as well.

"You need to get the bullet out of me. My arm's starting to go numb," he said. "You'll have to help me take my coat off."

She did so, and rolled up the sleeve of his shirt revealing some tattoos and a burn mark. She worked quickly. "It's not that deep, your coat must have stopped it somewhat," she informed him. I can still see it."

"That's wonderful. Can you pull it out, do you think?" he asked hopefully.

"Hmm, it's going to be hard," she said. Rolling up her own sleeves, she held his arm steady as she touched the open wound as lightly as she could.

"OUCH!" Jack cried, flailing his arm and scaring Camille.

"I'm sorry!" she apologized. "I'm so-"

"No, no. Shh, it's okay. It's okay. Just try again," he said through clenched teeth as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Okay," Camille breathed. "This is going to hurt."

"Just do it and let's get it over with."

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Camille took hold of his arm once again and steadied it. As fast and as accurate as she could, she pulled out the little lead musketball and threw it somewhere, wiping off the blood from her hands on her dress. She then proceeded to wrap the pirates arm tightly with a piece of loose cloth she was able to tear off her dress.

Jack looked at her. "Thank you," he said.

"Captain Sparrow, whether I like to admit it or not, you and I are allies now. I want nothing more than to escape this ship with you," Camille said eagerly.

"Oh, and you're so sure that I am going to agree with the woman who loathed being in my presence for as long as she was?" Jack said cunningly.

"You have to take me with you," she said, putting her hand in one of her pockets.

"And why's that?"

"Because I have something that I think you will find most beneficial to you, Captain Jack Sparrow of the Spanish Main."

Jack sat up, stroking his split goatee. "Now I am very interested in why you are talking like you have something important to me, love."

She grinned slyly. "A man once said to me…hmm, now what was it?" she said playfully. "Ah! I remember."

Jack smiled, watching her be so sly. Perhaps he was beginning to rub off on this beautiful young woman.

"He said to me, 'The bird always flies toward the sun'. Now does that mean anything to you, Captain?" she asked.

"Long John!" Jack mused. "You've spoken with Long John Silver?" he asked incredulously.

She nodded. "I have. He had one leg, by the way. Well I'm afraid I have got some bad news about him, then."

"He was hanged, wasn't he?"

"Yes, and he assaulted me in the marketplace!" she ranted. "But that is beside the point. Before he died, he entrusted something to me."

Jack's jaw dropped, and she thought that it was going to hit the floor of the jail cell. "He gave you the KEY?"

She held up the little key that had been in her pocket. "Aye," she said, mocking his pirate like language. Jack looked at his tattoo, which was a sparrow flying towards the sun.

"Clever girl," he mumbled. "So tell me now…how did you manage to get your rich little paws on that key?"

"I told you, he gave it to me. Captain, he simply walked up to me and gave me the key. There's no mystery to it."

"If he gave it to you, than the situation must be more dire than I imagined," Jack said.


	8. Not Such A Bad Egg

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 8: Not Such a Bad Egg

"And just what exactly is that supposed to mean? Look, do you want me to get out of this or not?" Camille asked, sounding hurt.

"Well it's nothing to take too personally, love. I just don't think you have the necessary skills needed in just such an operation."

Camille stood up, taking the key with her as Jack reached for it. She locked the cell behind her before she exited without a word. "You'll see, Captain Sparrow," she said to herself, dropping the key back into her pocket. "When I lack certain skills, I happen to make up for them by my place in society."

She went back to her cabin, found and ink bottle and a piece of parchment, and began writing a letter.

_Mr. William Turner_

_72 Kipling Square_

_Port Royale_

_Dear Mr. Turner,_

_I am writing to you about a very important matter that concerns you. I would be delighted if you would arrive at my mansion in Celebros as soon as possible after maintaining this telegram. I will be most grateful for your prompt reply._

_Sincerely,_

_Miss Camille Quartermaine_

When Camille had arrived back into her father's arms, there had been a huge commotion ever since. Camille just wanted to avoid it all, but she could not go anywhere in her own household (which she was now confined to) without hearing about those dreaded pirates, and how they all should get what was coming to them by her father. Jack's sentence was to be carried out the following day.

"Annie, I just don't want to be protected this much. It's ridiculous, it really is. They didn't even leave a scratch on me," she was explaining to her servant.

"This time," Annie said. "There could be things much worse than pirates, m'dear. The Master is only lookin' out fer ya, ya know that."

"Annie, you must understand that this fearsome pirate that everyone loathes is not such a bad egg, really," she tried to explain.

Annie put her hands on her hips. "A bad egg? They e'en got ya talkin' like ya was one o' them!"

Camille cleared her throat. "I didn't want to have to tell you this way dear Annie, but I met your niece aboard the Pearl."

Annie's eyes seemed to harden. "I ain't got no niece."

"Her name is Ana Maria."

Annie's jaw dropped open, staring at Camille in disbelief. "Ana Maria's alive? Ye ain't pullin' my leg, are ye child?"

"No, no, Annie I would never! She spoke about wanting to meet you and the children. Now do you understand that it was not so bad being on a pirate ship?"

Annie was done being emotional for the moment, and sighed. "Camille, there's nothin' ya can say to make yer father believe otherwise. Nobody messes with 'is only daughter. Everyone knows that," Annie reasoned.

"I know, but I just wish-" she was interrupted when Benjamin appeared, rapping on the doorframe.

"I beg your pardon Lady Camille, but there is a Mr. Turner here who wishes to speak with you about an urgent matter."

Annie gave the redhead a weird look as she stood up. "Thank you, Benjamin," she said as she hurried out of the room.

There was a thin gentleman standing patiently by the doorway, looking around at the chandeliers and breakable items in the mansion. He didn't look like a blacksmith with his well kept hair and suit. After all, he did live in the Governor's house.

She bowed. "Mr. Turner, thank you for coming so promptly. I was beginning to worry that you would not receive my letter."

Will took her hand and kissed it courteously. "I came as soon as I could arrange the trip, Miss Quartermaine."

"Please, come this way," she instructed him, leading him into the library. He looked a bit perplexed as she hurried through the bookshelves and made sure the place was empty. Then she shut the door and locked it.

"Miss Quartermaine," Will began, but she interrupted him.

"Captain Jack Sparrow is in trouble," Camille said abruptly.

This caught Will off guard. He hesitated for a moment, wondering how the lady knew of his pirate friend. "And may I ask how you know this?"

"He is the pirate who kidnapped me. I saw the letter you wrote to him and decided that I could contact you about getting him out of his predicament. Did I assume too much?" she asked, hoping she hadn't.

Will stroked his chin. "You may have, Miss Quartermaine. What exactly is Jack's predicament?"

"He is sentenced to be hanged tomorrow morning."

"That really doesn't surprise me."

"Nor I, really. But we must help him. Oh, forgive me. Please, have a seat."

Will sat down, nodding. "I agree that we must help him. But it seems you have caught me in a bit of a tight spot, Miss Quartermaine."

"Please, call me Camille."

"Very well, Camille. Not long ago, Jack happened to be in this same predicament. As you know, pirates are not at all well thought of in these parts."

"Yes, do go on," she urged.

"Well, I am afraid that I am already responsible for assisting him in an escape attempt from the gallows."

Her eyes widened. "Really?" She pictured him and Jack, running from the King's Navy, Jack with his coat on and Will in his big-feathered hat and fancy cloak. It made her almost crack a smile in front of the blacksmith.

She sighed. "Well then, I suppose the Governor and Commodore Norrington are keeping their eye on you."

He nodded. "Indeed. They look somewhat down on the fact that I have once myself engaged in an act of piracy."

"Have you now?" She bit her tongue, forgetting her manners. "I apologize, Mr. Turner, that was incredibly rude of me. It seems that I have been on the _Black Pearl_ far too long."

But Will only chuckled. "It's quite all right, Miss Camille. You remind me of my wife, Elizabeth."

She smiled. "You're married to Governor Swann's daughter, I see. I must admit that I was curious as to how you lived in the Governor's house."

"You are a very smart girl, Miss Camille."

She smiled. "Yes, Jack has told me that before."

Will's expression hardened, thinking of a plan to get his friend out of another tight spot he had put himself in. He certainly couldn't act out of line unless he wanted to face getting thrown out of Governor Swann's house.

She gasped, remembering the key in her pocket. "One more thing, Will." She pulled it out and set in on the table. "This key was given to me by-"

"Silver!" Will exclaimed, reaching for the key. "Jack entrusted you with this?" he seemed disgusted as he said so.

She shook her head, confused at Will's reaction. "Not at all. Jack never had possession of the key in the time I was with him. Silver gave the key to me before he died."

Will looked at her, holding the key in the palm of his hand and looking from the key to Camille. "Miss Camille, I think you may have gotten yourself in over your head this time."

Apparently, according to Will, the key belonged to an ancient race of people down near the Peruvian Gulf. It was merely a legend that whoever returned that key to its rightful chest would find the chest full of gold. But the treasure was buried deep inside caves and ancient ruins left behind of the race of people.

"I'm a bit confused, Will. Why am I endangered if the key is safe with me? The treasure will not be opened," Camille insisted.

"Because Camille, the key and its possessor are not as secret as you would like to think. Here, in Port Celebros and Port Royale barely anyone knows any tales of ancient gold and pirate medallions or things of that sort. You must give that key to Jack."

"But then won't Jack be in danger?"

Will shook his head. "Jack knows what to do with it. Long John Silver was his brother, Camille. And he died protecting the key. Jack knows what he must do. What he also doesn't know Camille, is the second part to the legend: Whoever opens that chest of gold will be cursed."

"How do you know that if he doesn't? Surely you are no pirate?"

Will hesitated. "I can't say that I am a pirate, but I do have pirate blood in me. My father was one."

"I see," she said, fully intrigued. "So what are we going to do about Jack and his key?"


	9. Vincent

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 9: Vincent

The next day was Jack's sentencing. Camille had agreed to be the one to help Jack escape, because out of the two of them she would be able to get away with little or no consequence. Will had actually suggested that he do it, but Camille insisted that he keep his good name in the Governor's household. So she sat at home, pretending to still be upset over the kidnapping.

Once the house was empty because Dorian was gone to the sentencing, she dressed in a pair of trousers and a plain shirt, pulling a cloak over her so she merely looked like a peasant. She was able to make her way to Port Royale with little difficulty.

Although she hadn't been there quite as much as her father, she had no trouble finding the fort because of those bright red coats the soldiers had on. Sure enough, Jack was maintaining his dignity by standing there, arms tied in front of him, smiling as every single one of his crimes was read off.

Camille eased her way into the crowd and went unnoticed. She could see the Governor next to his daughter, Elizabeth, and Will. On the other side of him stood her father and the Commodore. She took a deep breath and looked up.

Wow, was he tall. His boots were dirty, but that was understandable since he was constantly outrunning people. As she looked up at his bored eyes, scanning the crowd nonchalantly, he looked down at her and blinked. He recognized her immediately, and got this incredulous expression on his face. "Camille?" he mouthed.

She winked at him and smiled. He tried to hide a grin, and instead looked in a different direction.

She slipped out of the crowd and underneath the platform as the drumroll began. She waited patiently, positioning herself directly under the door that would open so that Jack could stand on her shoulders comfortably.

The door was opened, and Camille tried not to grunt as Jack's heavy boots landed directly on her shoulders. Looking up, she saw him hang his head and pretend to die as members of the crowd either gasped, shouted, or clapped. She wondered what to do next, but it wasn't long before she heard more heavy bootsteps and remained still and quiet as the rope was untied and Jack's "corpse" set down. She listened, and could hear a bit of shuffling as she made her way out from underneath the platform. Jack had been pushed onto a simple cart, and would most likely be dropped into the ocean as Will had explained to her.

The gallows were clearing, and there was pretty much no one in sight now. Seeing her chance as the crowed of people scattered, she made her way over to the cart and took the key out of her pocket. Jack happened to be quite a brilliant actor. She couldn't even see him breathing.

"It's rather convenient that I am a clever girl, Captain Sparrow," she said as she slipped the key into his coat pocket. "I understand what's to be done with Silver's key, thanks to your friend William."

Jack opened his eyes and took her hand, kissing it. "The pleasure has been all mine, Miss Camille. Until we meet again."

She straightened up, bowing her head. "Hopefully. Farewell, Captain."

She was able to make her way back to her mansion and slip back into her dress, just in time for her father to come and tell her that she needn't have to worry about any loathsome pirate capturing her again. "I would also like to mention that I have some wonderful news for you, my dear. It seems that Gillette has asked for your hand in marriage."

Her hand flew to her chest, pretending like Gillette had not told her anything yet. She was still very upset. "What did you tell him? Father, did you tell him that I would marry him?"

"Of course not, Camille. But there is going to be a commencement ceremony in Port Royale in few weeks. I would like you to come with me and at least give a chance, dearest."

She didn't know how to explain to her father that she had given Gillette numerous chances to prove himself anything but boring and egotistical. She was tired of trying to avoid marrying this man any longer; it only seemed inevitable.

As the days went by drawing closer to the ceremony, Camille found herself humming more Irish tunes than ever. Her father had even caught her reverting back to her accent a couple of times. She also found that she was not even afraid to hide her poem books anymore, and always left them in the room or on her bed for anyone to see.

She didn't know what was wrong with her, and every time she would wander near the port on the way to the market with Annie she would stop for several seconds and simply watch the ships come in.

It was finally the night of the ceremony. Of course, Camille had been dreading it for weeks as Annie got her ready. She wore her favorite green dress and put her hair up only a little so her red curls would hang down on one side. The hat that she wore had a gold lacing around it matching the bottom and designs on her dress. Even the back was a bit scandalous.

"Camille darling, are you almost ready?" Dorian called up the stairs as their carriage awaited them at the front gates.

"Yes, father," she replied as she lifted her skirts and began what she expected to the longest and most unbearable evening of her life.

They arrived, and she stuck with her father as he chatted gaily with Governor Swann. She said hello to Will and his lovely wife Elizabeth, speaking formally but at the same time exchanging knowing glances with Will. Of course, Commodore Norrington was there and she found herself trapped in a conversation with him before a light touch on her arm.

She braced herself, turning around to find the one and only Gillette looking speechless. "Miss Camille, may I say that you look quite stunning in that dress," he said.

She sighed, unimpressed. "You may say it, but I'm not so sure I could get myself to believe it," she muttered.

"I beg your pardon, my lady?"

"Nothing," she replied, smiling with a fake sweetness.

"Camille, my dear, would you care to dance?" Gillette asked, offering his hand.

Ignoring his offer, she folded her fan and put it away. "My father told me about your proposal," she said boldly.

Gillette grinned a big, sappy grin. "I supposed that he did. You have had long enough to decide that it would be in your best interest, haven't you?"

She could not believe this guy! Could he take a hint, possibly? Perhaps she had to simply spell it out for him. She would have preferred Mr. Black over this fellow. "Gillette, I can't marry you," she said.

He didn't miss a beat. The words didn't even set him back. "Why not, my dear Camille?"

"Oh, would you stop calling me that?" she nearly yelled. "Gillette, I can't marry you because I don't want to. Is that a good enough answer?"

"Actually, it isn't," he said, his voice taking a dangerous tone. "Do you think that there is any way your father would refuse to let me into the inheritance? In fact, he has already put me in his will, he has become so fond of me."

Camille really didn't feel threatened. She just rolled her eyes. So it was about the money again? Why couldn't she ever just attract a man because of something like her personality or…was she not beautiful? Camille felt tears well up in her eyes as she thought that being captured by a pirate for a while may have been the most excitement she was ever going to have. Sitting there, growing old with this guy was going to bore her to tears for the rest of her life.

"You're only making it difficult for your father, you know. Ah yes, I should let you in on this little secret since we shall soon be sharing everything of ours," he stepped close and whispered in her ear. "I saw you at the gallows with Mr. Sparrow."

At this, her eyes widened. He was blackmailing her into marrying him so that he could maintain the money! This man had a blacker heart than a pirate! She looked at him with fear in her eyes. He had to be joking, but there was absolutely no humor to be found in the situation.

Gillette chuckled as he offered her hand again. "Now then, would you care to dance?" he said slyly.

Feeling a horrible burden placed squarely on her shoulders, she took his hand and danced as gracefully as she could, plastering a smile on her face as she cried and screamed on the inside. There was no way out of it. William Turner could not help her out of this one. After and hour or so, Gillette left her to brag about himself to the Governor for awhile. Taking a seat exasperatedly, she barely noticed as a young gentleman approached her.

"Pardon my intrusion, but I saw you across the room and just could not bear to wait any longer. Do you mind if I have this dance?" he asked, looking at Camille and putting his hand out.

She looked at this man, surprised. Taking his hand, she got to her feet and looked around, making sure her fiancé was still focusing on his meaningless accomplishments.

He took her by the waist, and gently wrapped his hand around hers. "I love the dress, Miss Camille. It goes with those lovely eyes of yours, if I may say so," he said, practically sweeping her around on the dance floor.

"J…Jack?" she asked, taking a moment to recognize him. The dreadlocks were gone from his hair, and his face was neatly shaved. He looked very different, even moreso because obviously neither Gillette nor Norrington had recognized him.

He nodded. "Intelligence has always been one of your strong points, love," he said without any sarcasm at all. "But for now, my name is Mr. Vincent Bordeulaire." Camille felt a huge wave of relief sweep over her. She could trust him and tell him everything; about Gilette, about meeting with Will…

"But how…you're dancing..?" she trailed off, almost tripping.

"Ah, we have our dear friends William and Elizabeth Turner to thank for that," he said, winking when he caught Elizabeth's eye.

"Captain, why did you come back? I gave you the key, did I not?"

"Aye, that you did, love. But I couldn't leave you here with Norrington's patsy now, could I? What and ungentlemanly thing to do. And besides, with this disguise I'm free to waltz in and out of any treasure-filled mansion that I please," he said smoothly.

She laughed out loud, causing several heads to turn. She didn't care. "You are ungentlemanly, Jack Sparrow."

He lifted an eyebrow. "Now you may want to choose your words a bit more carefully, unless you want to spend the rest of your days with him," he said, gesturing towards the scowling man to the side of the room who had finally noticed.

"He saw me with you at the gallows. He's blackmailing me into marrying him," she explained.

"Is he now? And I suppose it's just for the money as well."

"My father's fortune has caused me more trouble than I care to remember."

"Well I may have an idea," Jack said, getting closer to Camille. He put his mouth close to her ear, and his lips brushed it as he spoke. "Come with me, love."

She heard this, and the hair on the back of her neck rose. This man, this pirate, made her feel things that she had never felt for any man before. She was being selfish, wasn't she? A man like Jack could never give her a grand house, or money, or anything that would be beneficial for her to maintain her status in society.

"Captain, would you please excuse me? I need to go out on the terrace to get some air," she said as she hurried out of the room. She put her hands on the edge, holding herself up as she swooned from the thoughts in her head. Being there, among the people in the warm room, dancing with Jack…she felt her heart race, unlike when she looked at or spoke to Gillette.

Putting her chin in the palm of her hand, she sighed as she heard Jack's footsteps approach her from behind. "Camille?" Oh no, it was Gillette. "Camille are you all right?" he asked.

"Yes, I just needed some fresh air is all. I'm fine, Gillette."

"Who was that man you were dancing with?" Gillette almost demanded. "What did he say to you?"

"No, he is an old friend. We used to go to school together."

"He got the same schooling as you, Camille?"

"Yes, his name is Vincent Bordeulaire. He resides in France," she said, quickly thinking about his last name. She prayed Jack would make up a similar alibi.

Gillette cleared his throat. "I see. Well, it is getting rather late."

"Yes, perhaps I am getting rather tired," she said, suddenly feeling faint. Damned corset. She grudgingly took Gillette's arm as he they said their goodbyes and he helped her into a coach. She was glad that he didn't take the liberty of inviting himself over or anything like that. And she was still sort of in shock about Jack's question. "Come with me, love," was all that kept repeating itself in her head. Leave, and go with a pirate? Leave her home? She'd done it before, but permanently?

She thought about her father, about Annie and the children. She would miss them terribly, as much as she had when she'd been captured. And Will and Elizabeth? All they had done, teaching Jack how to pretend to be something just so that he could sneak around in society after having his life saved numerous times by Will?

She changed into her nightgown, and cuddled up on her bed after lighting several candles. Then she laughed to herself. Here she was, worried that Jack could not provide for her…hell, it wasn't like the man had just asked her to _marry_ him. _No_, she thought darkly. _Unfortunately, someone else has_.

She did reminisce on her time at sea. She had become rather fond of the crew and Ana Maria teaching her how to cook and clean. She remembered feeding the dolphins with Jack before he'd even known her name. Now, in the blink of an eye, she was back to wearing layers of clothing and attending fancy parties, being served in a way she had always taken for granted. Annie had definitely noticed the change in Camille when doing her daily chores. There was a rare moment when Annie could even convince the girl to sit down and let her do her work as a servant should.

She thought of Peter and Sheila, and how much they would love to play with an older cousin and hear (of course, clean versions) of pirate stories. Then she stopped herself.

What on _Earth_ was she thinking? She was fantasizing about pirates! That was the least of her concern, when she was being blackmailed for her father's inheritance. She had to do something, but who would listen to her? Even her father was completely under Gillette's spell.

"Come on girl, think," she said aloud to herself. How could she possibly postpone the marriage? The only thing Gillette was after was her money, so if she somehow could get rid of it…how could she get rid of that? It was in her father's will.

She recalled Gillette telling her that Dorian had already written him in on the will. So that meant that perhaps if something happened to her he could still benefit from it. Her head was beginning to hurt, and she was still a little short of breath from dancing with her lungs held together. She drifted off into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.


	10. Neverland

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot. And I know that _Peter Pan_ was written way later than this, but it was a fun story to work with.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 10: Neverland

She woke up with the sunlight peeking in. Annie had already pulled the blinds open and laid out her clothes. The candles had burned their way to the desk in little puddles of hardened wax. Keeping her eyelids shut tight, she tried to recreate last night's atmosphere in her memory. She could remember Captain Sparrow, smelling delightfully not like rum and sweat, and swinging her around as if he'd been born into society to dance with people like her.

She sat up. "People like me?" she asked absolutely no one. A person like her could NEVER even associate with a person like Jack or Ana Maria or Mr. Gibbs. What had…had she dreamt it? By the time Annie had helped her get dressed, she was convinced she had.

When she descended the stairs, it was a different story. Three gentlemen sat with teacups neatly on their laps, one of them being her father. He looked up at her and smiled. "Good morning Camille, my darling! Did you sleep well?"

She swallowed. "Yes father, I did. Mr. Turner; Mr. Bordeulaire." She made her way to the couch, and took a seat next to her father. Will and Jack sat on two chairs, and she sat across from Jack. He winked at her, sipping his tea daintily. She glanced at Will, but got no explanation from his face.

"It seems that last night you left your fan at the party," Dorian explained. "And since they happened to be passing through, were thoughtful enough to come and return it."

"Oh my, how foolish of me!" she exclaimed, knowing full well that she had remembered her fan and it was in her bedroom as they spoke.

"Yes, and Mr. Bordeaulaire was just telling me how the both of you attended Rochester last summer."

She cleared her throat, masking the laugh that was trying to escape. She couldn't believe how well he had everyone fooled. That bloody pirate. "Yes, Vincent and I studied together with his sister on occasion," she said, almost gritting her teeth hoping that it wouldn't interfere with any previous made up information. But to her relief, Jack gave her a slight nod.

"Indeed, Mr. Quartermaine. I daresay your daughter was responsible for most of my successful marks in school. She really is quite brilliant, sir."

Dorian nodded, glancing at his daughter. "I agree, Mr. Bordeaulaire."

_Then why do I need a man to take care of me if I'm so bloody brilliant? _She thought as she twisted the lace on her dress.

Will cleared his throat. "Yes, well with all due respect Mr. Quartermaine we really must be getting along," he said, standing up. He had been eyeing his friend carefully, and could tell that Jack was just about to say something "ungentlemanly".

Jack put his tea down. "Yes, of course. We really can't stay and chat longer, although," he added, eyeing Camille, "it has been lovely seeing you again, Miss Quartermaine. It is such a small world."

Before she knew what she was doing Camille had gotten to her feet to follow them. "Vincent," she called after him.

He turned around casually, like it was his name any other day. "Yes, Miss Quartermaine?"

"Please, feel free to come and visit _anytime_," she said clearly. "It really has been a pleasure seeing such an old friend," she said, putting her hand out.

"Miss Quartermaine, I assure you. The pleasure has been all mine," Jack said, almost seductively. He kissed her hand and winked again before following Will out the door.

"Just what do you think you're doing?" Will almost demanded when they were past the front gate. "If you're trying to charm your way into that inheritance, you are going about it all wrong."

"Am I now?"

"Yes. She is engaged to Gillette, a man of the King's Royale Navy. You could be knighted, and it would still be his word against yours for anything. Don't try it, Jack."

"Well to be perfectly honest, I wasn't plannin' on using words, mind you."

"You know what I mean."

Jack chuckled. "I know lad, I know. But she has gotten herself into a real pickle, that redhead."

"Yes, she has. She's marrying Gillette whether she likes it or not. And I doubt a woman like her would like it."

Jack kept quiet, knowing that Will would do everything in his power to stop Jack from communicating with the Quartmaines. She needed his help, though. He'd seen the desperation in her eyes. He'd done the girl a favor by kidnapping her, although she was altogether too damned stubborn to admit it. Plus, she'd given him Silver's key. Pirate or not, that counted for something.

They made it back to Port Royale by the middle of that afternoon, and by the time they were back inside the Governor's mansion he was already constructing a plan.

Camille continued to see Gillette, but she was beginning to grow worried about the marriage since her father was already letting her court him unsupervised. She dreaded the day she would have to marry him, but little by little her hatred for him wore down. Now it seemed that she held nothing for the soldier except an endless boredom.

They were riding a coach home from Sunday mass, and rather than listen to his pointless words she looked out at the bright sun, mocking her as it cast beautiful light over the bay that morning.

"Camille my dear, are you listening to me?" broke her from her daze.

She snapped back to reality. "Yes, Gillette?"

"I said you really should put your hat back on. You're going to get sunspots on your face. It's really quite unattractive."

She obeyed, pinning her hat on so it would shade her face from any sun that tried to get underneath. They had arrived at her mansion, and she sighed as she was helped down. She put out her hand and almost pulled back from shock when Gillette kissed the inside of her wrist.

"I'll see you tonight, my dear," Gillette said, reentering the coach and heading off.

When she got back inside, she washed her hands, trying to get rid of at least the memory of sitting next of him in the stuffy church. That was another thing she hated. Catholicism. She had been raised Protestant in Ireland, and continually asked her father why they should be forced to attend a Catholic mass every Sunday morning. He disliked it as much as she did.

Changing into a more comfortable dress, (green of course), she watched Annie's children that day. Annie's children always helped her to forget her own worries. She was in the middle of reading them a story, when the doorbell rang.

"Hold onto that page, Peter," she said as she got up. "Benjamin?" she called. He must have been gone as well. She opened the door, and jumped back in surprise. "Jack!" she cried, forgetting to call him "Vincent".

"Yes, hello, Miss Quartermaine," he said slyly.

"I was just reading the children a story before Annie gets home from the market, won't you please come in?" she asked warmly.

Jack looked around. "Is your father here?"

"Not today. He's been making wedding arrangements up in Port Royale as of late," she tried to say casually, but he could see the trapped look in her eyes.

"I see."

"Yes," she said, quickly changing the subject. "Children! Children, won't you come! I'd like for you to meet someone!" she said, leading Jack into the play room.

Both of them stood up, and little Sheila hid behind her brother. Jack smiled at the two of them. "Hello," he said nicely, grinning down at them.

"Children, this is a very good friend of mine. His name is Vincent," she introduced. "Vincent, this is Peter and Sheila. They are Annie's children."

He looked down at them, and put his hand out as Peter shyly took it. "Well, what in the world has your mother been feeding you, lad?" Jack said strongly, causing Peter to jump. "For such a stonelike grip! You're a good, strong man, I can see that much just by lookin' at ye!" he said, reverting back to his pirate accent. Camille bit her lip and looked at him in warning, but Peter was grinning.

"Miss Camille told me that you went to school with her. She said you was real handsome too, she did," Peter blurted out, not aware of what he said.

Camille's face turned almost as red as her hair, but Jack just chuckled. "Did she now?" Then he tried to make eye contact with Sheila. "And who's this little lass?"

Sheila ran to Camille and tried to hide in her skirts as Camille picked her up and held her. Peter looked at them, then back at Jack. "She does that to everybody. It's called being antisocial," he said informatively.

"Peter, do not give false labels to your sister like that," Camille scolded. "She's just shy. After all, you are only three years old, aren't you, lamb?" she asked gently. The little girl nodded.

"Well I'm not going to bite you, love," Jack said, coming closer. But the girl only buried her head in Camille's shoulder.

Camille laughed. "Vincent, could you hand me that book just there? I was just reading to the children about Peter Pan."

Jack picked up the book, looking over it. "You're reading _this_ to young children? A bit advanced, don't you think?" he said, turning over the thick book in his hands. "There aren't even any pictures."

Camille took it and sat down. "Vincent, haven't you ever read the story of Peter Pan when you were a child?" she asked.

"Afraid I haven't, love," he replied.

"Well then, you must have a seat with the children. Fortunately I was just starting the story before you arrived."

"Peter Pan was amazing! He fought pirates, and he was friends with mermaids, and he taught Wendy to fly after she sewed his shadow back on him, and he never got older, and he had Tinkerbell…" Peter began, trying to be helpful and fill Jack in on the details. Sheila nodded, smiling slightly from Camille's lap.

"Oh, he fought _pirates_, did he?" Jack said, looking interested.

"Yes, he fought a very fiercesome pirate named Captain Hook," Camille interjected.

"An alligator eat his hand," Sheila's small, shrill voice piped up.

"An alligator _ate_ his hand," Peter said, correcting his sister.

"Yes, that's right. An alligator did eat his right hand. So in place of his missing hand we would wear a hook. But the, well technically, it was a crocodile. But then Captain Hook was constantly pursued by the crocodile, so to know when it was coming he fed it a clock so that he could hear the ticking from the inside of the creature."

Vincent knit his eyebrows together. "A ticking crocodile? Now that's interesting. But I think I'd like to hear more about this Captain Hook character."

"You can't hear the end!" Sheila shouted, and then giggled, covering her mouth.

Jack looked puzzled, and Camille laughed. "She's right, you know. Vincent has to hear the story of _Peter Pan_ from the very beginning, doesn't he children?" They both nodded. Camille shrugged as she opened the book. "I'm afraid I can't reveal the ending until the end, Vincent. I'm sorry."

He just smiled. "Well then, we'd better be quiet if we want to hear the story then, eh?" He sat, almost as contentedly as the children and listened as Camille read some, but mostly told them of Peter Pan and the Lost Boys of Never Never Land.

"Miss Camille, was Peter Pan a negro?" Peter asked.

"Why, of course he was! And so was Wendy, and most of the Lost Boys," Camille said. Both of the children smiled and looked at each other.

"But I was talking to Miss Vanderbilt the other day and she said that negroes weren't in fairy tales. She said that they weren't important enough to put in stories and books," he continued.

"Well the next time she says anything of the sort to you, you just ask her how many negroes she met when she was in Never Never Land," Camille replied smartly. Jack just grinned, before all of their heads turned at the sound of Annie's voice.


	11. All Treasure Is Silver and Gold

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 11: All Treasure Is Silver and Gold

"Miss Quartamaine, I'm sorry fer leavin' the children with ya so long. I didn't know 'twas gonna take me more than a few hours to get me shoppin' done!" Annie said as she made her way into the room. She stopped when her eyes fell on Jack, with little Sheila sitting on his lap holding _Peter Pan_.

"Oh Annie, that's quite all right. We've been reading this afternoon. Annie, I would like to introduce to you Mr. Vincent Bordeaulaire."

Annie did a small curtsey. "How do you do?" she asked.

Jack took her hand and kissed her. "Forgive me for not getting up, ma'am," he said in his proper voice. "It seems this little one has taking a liking to my knee."

Little Sheila giggled. "I like Vincent," she told her mother.

"Well, I hope you two were behavin' in front o' company," Annie said, putting her hands on her hips.

The children shot each other worried glances, but Camille just smiled. "Annie, they were both on their best behavior. I was going to let them stay up and extra hour before bedtime this evening."

Peter and Sheila looked at their mother, both with hopeful eyes. Jack quietly observed the scene, still in awe of Camille's way of handing the children.

Annie sighed, looking from one to the other. "Well, I suppose if Miss Quartamaine says you behaved all right…" she was interrupted by squeals of glee as Sheila hopped off Jack's lap and the two of them ran upstairs to get washed for dinner, hand in hand.

"Honestly, Miss Quartamaine, are ya sure you're not foolin'? I can barely get the little monsters to get dressed in the mornin'," Annie said exasperatedly.

"They are simply perfect, Annie."

Ever since the servant had come into the room, Jack couldn't ignore the notion that she reminded him of someone. As he carefully, but not obviously, observed her facial features, he finally stood up.

"Do you know happen to know someone named Ana Maria, love?" he asked Annie.

She stopped in the middle of one of her sentences and just looked at him questioningly. He nodded. Then her eyes widened as she turned to Camille. "Oh no. Oh Camille, what have ya done?"

"Now Annie, it's all right. Nobody else knows. He doesn't look like one, does he?"

Annie shook her head. "Ya had me fooled, I'll admit. But still….if your fiancé finds out, Camille…"

"He is not going to, I assure you two lovely ladies," Jack said. "I haven't gotten my reputation because I get caught easily. I am right under the nose of the King's Royale Navy," he said proudly, winking at Camille. She felt a twitch in her stomach; the same one she had felt the night they had danced together.

"Well, I'd better go and get started on supper," Annie said as she excused herself. "Don't you be getting the girl inta anymore trouble, ya hear?" she scolded before she left.

Jack grinned. Then he got serious. "I did have a reason to come and see you, Camille," he said. The tone of his voice made her look at him worriedly.

"Is everything all right, Jack?" she asked.

"Yes, yes everything's fine, darling," he assured her. "I just thought I should say goodbye before I left Port Royale for good."

She felt a pit in her stomach. "Oh. Leaving for the treasure?"

He nodded. "Aye. I don't suppose I could act a gentlemen much longer, so it's just as well."

"Yes, I suppose it is," she said quietly. Now she wouldn't have anything to take her mind away from the marriage to Gillette. Jack had been doing that for her.

Jack swallowed. He didn't want to say anything about Camille and Gillette, but he knew it was on her mind. He was about to, when a sunbeam came through the curtains and Camille immediately rummaged around for her hat.

"What are you doing?"

"Protecting my face from the sun. Gillette said that I'd get sunspots and they would infect my skin," Camille explained. "I've already got it on my nose."

Looking closely at her nose, Jack threw his head back and laughed. "My dear, those are nothing more than freckles!" he exclaimed. "They're harmless, I swear." Then he sighed. "I suppose we shouldn't make a big deal of this, eh? I'm sure you'll find some escape from that fiancé of yours, darling. It's not right for a woman like you to have to…well, it's just not right," he stated before leaving the room. "Goodbye, Miss Camille."

"Farewell, Captain Sparrow." She watched him walk down to the front gate before taking off her hat. Her girlish fantasy was over, and now it was time to grow up.

Although physically Jack made no reaction to their recent parting, it seemed to change something in him. No one noticed as a gentleman made his way to the docks and boarded a small rowboat. It wasn't until he got to the _Pearl _and the ship began to sail away that he even thought of looking back. What would Camille do? She wouldn't marry Gillette against her will, would she?

He took the helm, and sighed, stripping from his tights and taking his hair down. Somewhere between kidnapping that girl and teaming up with her, he'd somehow grown very fond of her and her pirate-like ways.

SEVEN MONTHS LATER:

She didn't know why, but for some reason she missed that damned pirate. He had kidnapped her, gotten her drunk, made her do chores on the _Black Pearl_, and he had certainly not cut his hair just to dance with her.

Still, she couldn't help feeling that he alone had been her breath of fresh air before she was forced to suffocate for the rest of her short life. She remembered making direct eye contact with him as he asked her about herself, like he had been fascinated wit her. Damned pirate. Bloody pirate. Damned, bloody, irresistibly charming, cunning, swashbuckling, Captain J-

"Camille, are you nearly ready?" Dorian asked, interrupting her thoughts.

"Yes, father," she said, glancing in the mirror once more and adjusting her bridal veil. The days had simply dragged by. Oddly enough, Camille had barely given any thought to the pirate until someone had passed by mentioning a sparrow.

She stood with her father, in the back of the church they were to wed in (they, being Camille and Gillette. Yeah, that pussy is still around.). She sighed. Just the mere thought of that Jack Sparrow man had made her infinitely more resistant to this entire ceremony.

She wasn't even nervous. The way she saw it, the sooner she married Gillette, the sooner she could get out of those dreadful shoes and open up a nice book of poetry by William Blake; of perhaps she could even read some Irish literature if she could manage to hide her Yates pieces from Gillette.

She rolled her eyes, thinking about the future. She prayed that as soon as the marriage certificate was signed he would become bored with her and run off with a bridesmaid. And if he thought that she was going to cook for him…

Camille then realized that her husband-to-be was not waiting by the altar. In fact, all of the heads were turned and focused on somebody who stood in the center of the church, announcing that the bank had recently been robbed. The Quartermaine vault had been broken into.

After the news was given a moment to sink in, everyone was looking toward the back of the church, straining to see if Camille understood her "misfortune".

"Poor dear, Dorian will never be able to marry her off," somebody whispered.

What? No money meant no Gillette, since that had been all that he'd been interested in. But it also meant no other suitors. So she would have no one to provide for her and be forced to live in that fabulous mansion with her father, Annie, and the children. Pity.

"Father, tell me again why we can't just move back to Ireland," she said simply.

"Camille, this is no time to be funny," Dorian said sternly.

"I wasn't being funny."

"And don't speak in contractions. It's entirely improper."

"Yes, father," she said, knowing better than to point out his hypocrisy. He was much more embarrassed about the robbery, perhaps because he'd taken pride in the fact that his only daughter had continuously been suffering thousands upon thousands of loveless proposals. She wanted to shout and dance. This was a blessing!


	12. A Very UnPiratelike Gesture

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 12: A Very Un-Piratelike Gesture

"Father, I don't need a husband," Camille was insisting a couple of days later. "I can live perfectly fine on my own."

"You read too much nonsense," Dorian scolded. "A young woman needs a man to take care of her. I refuse to listen to any of that rubbish you have been reading."

"It's not rubbish, father. And I can speak without getting my ideas organized from something written by a man," she said coolly.

"You hold your tongue, child. I'll not be spoken to in such a manner."

Camille looked at the ground. She would not get her father to agree that she was capable of surviving without an emotionless marriage. (Oh, blasphemy!) If her father even began to go on about her being barefoot and pregnant to carry on the Quartermaine lineage, she was going to have to scream. "If the inheritance is gone, why are we still prattling on about the idea of my marriage?" she protested, knowing she was being much too bold for her own good.

Her father became impatient. "Camille, without that inheritance there is nothing for you! Do you really think that men will listen to a woman, much less an unmarried one? Do you wish to be treated equally by society? You will not be; without a husband, you are nothing," he said gravely.

She bit her lip as tears filled her eyes. Again, it was the marriage. Again, it was what everyone except her thought was best for her. It was what her father wanted, to keep his good name. She was infuriated.

"That's not what Mother would have thought," she said calmly, and before the sentence had gotten completely out of her mouth Dorian backhanded her across the face.

"Don't you EVER speak that way about your mother!" he screamed before he was even fully aware of what he'd done.

Aside from being spanked as a small child, her father had never laid a finger on her. She recoiled in horror, terrified of the thought of her own flesh and blood becoming as close-minded as everyone else in this forsaken port.

He was still yelling as she turned away, and he even grabbed her arm. She pulled free from his grip and ran up the stairs, locking her door behind her. She began to cry.

About half and hour later, she was still sobbing on her bed when she heard a noise below her window.

Startled, she rolled off her bed and sat still, holding in her remaining tears as most of them stayed cold on her face. She tried to steady her breathing, but then she heard a THUMP and bit her tongue. Somebody had climbed right into her room.

She heard a person moving about stealthily, and looked around for something to aid her. She could see nothing but a stack of hatboxes by her bureau.

She turned her head slightly, glancing under the bed to get a good look at the tips of a pair of brown boots. The culprit was now rummaging around the small nightstand on the other side of her bed.

Reaching underneath her bed, she could almost touch the pair of boots. Maybe she could pull the attacker's feet out from underneath…no, they probably weighed much more than she could account for. And her furniture could break in the process.

As she pulled her hand back underneath, she caught a glimpse of the figure's outline as they passed in front of a mirror.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, getting to her feet as the pirate jumped two feet off the ground.

His hand flew to his chest after whirling around and facing her. "Are you trying to kill me, love?" he demanded.

She rushed into his arms unexpectedly, and he wasn't quite sure how to react.

"Oh Jack, I never thought I'd see you again!"

She was…happy to see him? "Well, I couldn't be expected to leave you here, could I?" he asked, narrowing his eyes when he saw wet streaks on her face. "So it was you I heard then," he said.

She nodded, affirming his suspicion. "Captain, my father has been robbed," she confessed.

"So you mean to tell me that you are up here weeping because Gillette no longer has any incentive to marry you?" Jack said in a disbelieving tone.

"It's not Gillette. Now no one wishes to marry me," she said indifferently.

"Love I do apologize, but I'm still not making a connection here. What's got those eyes not sparkling, eh?"

"Captain Sparrow, I believe that yours truly cannot operate in a British society without having a husband of equal stature."

He cocked an eyebrow. Has this been the bold redhead he'd gotten to know over such a short period of her misfortunes? "Says who?"

"Says my father. And every other man and woman in Port Celebros who knows what's best for me," she said sarcastically.

"Ah, now it's starting to make sense."

Camille took a seat on her windowsill, looking down on the garden. "My mother always told me, Jack…she said that I could do whatever I wanted just because God loved me that much when I was born."

The captain eased up beside her, giving every ounce of his attention to her, letting his eyes fall onto her radiant features, trying his best to avoid her breasts and stay focused on her face. He stared at her hair as she spoke.

"She was beautiful, Jack," Camille continued without noticing him. "She never wore makeup, or a corset, or even put her hair up unless it was Sunday. She said that women relied too much on the opinion of men, and she married my father because he agreed."

Jack grinned, knowing not to make a witty or even sardonic comment at such a time. Camille was clearly upset, and remembering her mother was comforting her. To his wonder, it was comforting to him as well. "She sounds like a wonderful woman to me."

"Yes, she was."

"Was, love?" Jack inquired, knowing there was more to the story than perhaps the lovely woman would let onto.

Camille took a deep breath, looking at Jack. "They accused my mother of heresy within the Protestant church," she said darkly.

"Heresy? Witchcraft?"

She nodded. "They tortured her to death, in hopes that she would confess to worshipping the devil."

He looked at her sincerely. That explained a lot about her father wanting to marry her off so desperately and not wanting her to have any kind of independence. "Is that why your father is so intent on you being absolutely nothing like her?"

"Can you blame him, Jack? He watched his wife die because she would not serve under a man."

"If he's the one responsible for those bruises, I think I can blame him," Jack pointed out.

She looked at him, surprised that he had noticed. He hadn't seen her in more than half a year. She opened her mouth to speak. But he spoke before she got a chance to.

"I don't think it's much of a secret why I've returned, Camille."

She looked at him, drawing back. He was asking her to go with him again. "Jack, I can't go with you."

"Why not, love?" he pressed. "Give me one good reason and I'll never return to Port Celebros and tamper with the Quartermaine way of life again, I swear."

Again, she opened her mouth to speak. But she couldn't think of a reason. Her father wanted her gone, obviously. She had no friends. Without her money, no one seemed to think she would be of any value anymore.

"Love, are you all right?" Jack's voice said from behind her. He looked concerned. "You seem frightened."

"No, Captain. That's not it."

"Well then, what's gone and made you so silent, eh? If Dorian's gone and made you upset-"

She waved her hand. "No, it's…Jack, you could never give me a mansion or a high place in society or, well, even a good, decent title, but-

"

She caught the expression on Jack's face she had caused.

"Jack, I know I'm shallow, but hear me out!" she protested. "I know that you could never give me any of those things, but…"

"Yes?" he said impatiently with his arms crossed. "I've got to get back to my low place in society," he said bitterly.

She took a deep breath, biting her lip for a second. "But I think that you could give me something much bigger and better than all of that."

His expression softened a little, but he still looked hurt. "Like what, love?"

She looked at him. "Jack, I like you. You're the only man who has ever had an interesting story to tell about himself, and among that has stopped in the middle of it to ask me about myself. And…well, you don't bore me, and…this isn't working at all," she said sadly. "Jack, close your eyes."

"Excuse me?" he said, finally uncrossing his arms. This woman was beginning to confuse him.

"Please?"

Jack obliged, and not a moment later felt a gentle touch on his shoulders and a kiss on his lips. It was much different than in the tavern; this time it was not an act of desperation. He opened his eyes, and saw her with her hands folded in front of her. "I'm terribly sorry, I don't know what came over me. I've never done that either. I was entirely improper of me."

He looked at her as she made excuses and became flustered. "Camille," he said, ending her rant. She was silenced.

"Look, I'm a pirate. D'you know what that means, darling?"

She gave him a confused look, biting her lip.

He continued. "It means that I have rejected what you know to be society. I'm by no means proper, I cheat, I lie, I steal, I love alcohol, and I haven't the slightest regard for personal space," he said, stepping up to her. "Honestly, I can think I would be the last person to judge you, my dear. Don't be ashamed, all right?"

She looked up into his brown, kohl-rimmed eyes. She wanted to kiss him again, and she wanted to run away with him and Ana Maria on the _Black Pearl_. She wanted to watch the dolphins play as she felt the sea on her face and the wind through her hair.

Jack stepped back slightly. "Now, with that said, would you like to kiss me or wouldn't you?"

"She will be doing no such thing," Dorian's voice said from the doorway. He was aiming a pistol right at Jack. "Camille, step aside and don't look."

"Father, no!" Camille said defiantly. She stood in front of Jack. "Let me explain."

"No, Camille. I was beginning to wonder where you were getting such strange ideas," Dorian continued, lowering the pistol.

"Father, listen to me. Captain Sparrow has never hurt me, and neither have any of-"

"Stop it!" Dorian yelled, silencing his daughter immediately. She shrank back in the same horror, watching her father transform into a mindless chauvinist like the rest of Port Celebros' male citizens.

Taking this opportunity to try and aim for the pirate, Dorian held the pistol out again and pulled the trigger. Camille sprang forward and shoved his arm upward, causing the shot to go through the ceiling but still eliciting a shriek from her.

"Camille!" Dorian bellowed. "This man is trying to kill you!"

"No, he's not!" she bellowed back, surprising the three of them with her strong voice. "Father, I am leaving Port Celebros with him," she then said quite calmly.

"No, he's gone and put nonsense into your head. I told you not to read those books…" Dorian ranted as Camille took Jack's hand and kept him very close to her as the two went downstairs. Ignoring her father, she pulled the door open to face the entire Navy.


	13. Life on the Black Pearl

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 13: Life On the Black Pearl

"Good lord, don't you people have lives?" Jack exclaimed, flabbergasted.

Camille looked from the redcoats to him. "I'm sorry Jack, I suppose this just isn't your day."

"I suppose not," he said as he felt Dorian's pistol poke into his back.

Gillette was one of the soldiers, and he put his gun down and made his way forward. Taking Camille's hands in his, he said, "Camille, I'm so glad he didn't harm you! I heard about the robbery and I've been tracking him down all day," he tried to explain.

Camille looked at him incredulously. Even Jack knew to stand back. "Bad move, mate," he muttered.

"Oh dear," Dorian agreed. Even Norrington and most of the men seemed to freeze.

She took a moment to try and form her rage into rational sentences, and then went off. She pulled her arms away from him. "Do you really expect me to believe that?" she yelled, her hair coming down as she flailed her arms about. "You," she said as she poked him in the chest, "left me at the altar, at a wedding I was loath to attend in the first place, in a _Catholic_ church! Not Protestant, mind you, no, not the way I was brought up, but Catholic! Do expect me to put up with any more of your…your…" she was so angry, she was at a loss for words. Bring her fist back, she punched him squarely in the nose, causing him to fly backwards and hit the ground flat on his back.

She took this opportunity to grab his pistol from his waist while he was busy trying to keep the blood in his nose. She stood up, aiming at him. "Now, does anyone have anything else to say before Captain Sparrow and I leave this town ALIVE?" she demanded, looking at the navy. Most of the men cast their eyes down. Even Norrington did not dare to stand up to this rage. (Wise decision, too.)

Without turning around, she kept the pistol level with the sniveling Gillette. "Let him go, Father," she said sternly. Jack felt the pistol's point lighten up and stepped forward, cocking his own pistol.

He looked back, nodding at Dorian. "Thanks very much. Shall we, love?"

She smiled at him, then turned back to everyone else, still pointing the pistol as they slowly moved through. "Good evening, gentlemen."

"Love, run," Jack whispered, grabbing her wrist as they got to the edge of her father's property. She obeyed without any objection as she nearly toppled over her own slippers in an attempt to make it to the docks.

She had to stop when they were nearly there. "Jack, I can't run anymore."

"But we're nearly there! Come on love, you've got to!"

"Jack I'm sorry, it's this damned corset."

"Curse your damned corsets. Bloody Brits," he mumbled as he picked her up.

"Jack, that's really not-" she tried to protest as he literally swept her right off her feet.

"Nonsense, you're no burden for me at all," he said as he started running. They ended up making it to the ship with those navy idiots firing shots off into the night and arousing the citizens. Jack could distinctly hear Norrington announce his name and something about being shot on sight. He turned triumphantly to Camille, who was at his side. "How was that for adventure, eh?"  
"I think you're starting to wear those soldiers out," she said, still out of breath from her restricted breathing. Running was a chore in her attire.

He looked at her closely. "Would you like a little less restriction there, Camille? I can't promise I won't do anything ungentlemanly," he said, grinning.

She nodded, feeling like she was going to pass out. It felt like her ribs were all pressing against one another, when suddenly…the pressure was taken off. She took an amazingly deep breath when she looked around and saw her corset lying on the ground, along with the top half of her dress hanging down around her waist. Instinctively, she put her hands over her breasts in spite of the petticoat.

Jack was behind her, holding the knife he had used to cut the corset off with. He was squeezing his eyes shut tightly. "Go on now, put your dress back on. I'm not looking just yet," he said seriously.

She got it back on and fastened the back with minimal difficulty. Jack opened his eyes and reached down to get the corset. He kicked it to the side, seeing the pleased look on the lady's face. "Feel better?"

"Much."

"I must say, the way you handled the situation was frightening," Jack admitted as he leaned against the banister.

Camille laughed. "Well now you know not to get on my bad side," she joked. "So what now, Captain? If I am to remain on this ship you have to admit, I'm not going to be very beneficial."

He nodded. "You're right, love. I'm going to have to teach you a thing or two about getting along on my ship."

"Well I think I may have a slight advantage, and this time it is that fact that I am a woman," she said.

"Is it now?"

She nodded, and walked up to him until she was inches from his face. He rested his hand on her shoulder, taking some of her red hair and stroking it gently. "I don't know Miss Camille, if I like you better with a proper dress on and your hair pinned up, or on my ship."

She smiled. "I think you've known me long enough to make that decision, Jack."

"Mmm, and I think you've know me long enough to decide whether you want to kiss me or not, love."

They were still the same distance apart, and Jack made no move towards Camille's face. He was not expecting to have won her over so easily, and was still a bit wary.

"Speaking of decisions, have you decided the order in which you are planning to take my clothes off?"

This question caught him completely off guard. "What? I…uhm…" he stumbled, looking for an answer.

She sighed, leaning back on the banister. "Did you expect me to be seduced so easily by you?"

"You're right, you're not like other women Camille," Jack admitted. "But I never did expect a virgin to be so cunning."

She gave him a funny look. "Who said anything about me being a virgin?"

His eyes widened. That was three times now this evening she had caught him completely by surprise. He scolded himself for not knowing better by now.

"Will I have a cabin tonight Captain, or must I sleep on deck?" she asked politely. She may have been clever and sly, but she was not stupid. She'd learned very early never to make a mockery of Jack.

"Er…I'll find you a cabin." He had completely given up now. "You need to change, love?"

"No, thank you. I think I'll be all right," she said as he led her below deck and into a small cabin much like her last one. "Goodnight, Jack."

"That's Captain Jack to you now. As of tomorrow, you will become an official member of this crew. Goodnight, love."

The next morning she woke up to find a simple dress laid out on her bed for her. There was an apron next to it. She dressed, and went up on the deck. She squinted in the bright sunlight and shaded her eyes while it took them a moment to adjust. Some of the crew stopped and pointed, noticing that the lively redhead was back aboard their ship.

"Oy there! Missy!" said a familiar voice.

"Hello, Mr. Gibbs," she said kindly.

He made a small bow, not forgetting his manners despite the surroundings. "S'good to see ya again, Miss Camille. Captain's orders are to clean the decks. They be in bad need of swabbin', too. Ye'll find a bucket and a mop in the kitchen."

"Yes, sir," she replied cheerfully. Going back down to the kitchen, she took the bucket and began cleaning the floors. Gibbs had been right. They were very dirty, and very sticky. There were pieces of broken glass everywhere, and she took it upon herself to clean that up as well. By the end of the first afternoon, her feet ached and her back hurt. She put the mop and bucket away and stood up straight on her tiptoes, trying to relieve some of the soreness she felt.

Ana Maria was in the kitchen, already getting utensils out. She eyed Camille, and a slight flicker of a smile flashed across her face. "Evening, Camille," she said as she got out a set of knives.

"Hello, Ana Maria," she said, making her way over to the big pot. Ana Maria handed her a few potatoes and she began peeling them.

"Captain's makin' you work, I see," Ana said, looking at Camille's dress.

"Yes, I somehow managed to become part of the crew last night," Camille said, trying to figure it out for herself.

Ana looked at her, hesitating for a moment. "Did you sleep with him?"

"No! No, of course not!" she said, appalled. "Why would you even say that?"

Ana Maria chuckled. "I'm glad to see Jack's making some exceptions, then. The only women around him are me and whores."

"Well, I'm neither."

"Aye," was the last thing Ana Maria said as they continued preparing the food. The crew meandered in as usual, and most of them chatted with Camille for awhile. It felt good to be back on board that ship.

After supper, she nearly ran into Jack. She couldn't help but feel that throughout their short conversation he acted a little differently. He stumbled upon most of his words, and his eyes failed to remain on hers.

"Captain, I was wondering if I am do the same things tomorrow. Or would you just like me to do any miscellaneous chore that comes up? I'm still getting used to this life," she said, trying to be casual.

"Uhm, whatever you see fit, love."

She nodded. "Captain, you should get some rest. You seem…tired," she lied.

He nodded. "Of course, love." He passed her and made his way down to the brig. She shrugged and headed above deck. Everyone had their strange days, and Jack was certainly prone to being strange.

The thought of going into his cabin crossed her mind, to see if there was anything there that might be of interest to her. She stopped in the middle of the deck. No. She and Jack were…well, they were something like friends now. She needed to show that he could trust her as well as any member of his crew.


	14. Never Sleep With Twins

Disclaimer: I don't own half the characters in this story, but I do own the plot.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 14: Never Sleep With Twins…

"Diablo's gate, gentlemen! And ladies," Jack added the next day. This perked the crew up immensely.

Camille was sitting in the shade of a nice, wide-brimmed hat Ana Maria had lent her. She was mending a sail, and looked up to watch the Captain make his short announcement. She shook her head, continuing her work. There was no way she was going to a place called Diablo's gate. Diablo wasn't a word that was used freely, and she didn't want to find out why it was used in this case.

A few evenings later, the majority of the crew sat in a tavern in Capulet port. By now, Camille was used to this. Drinking, whoring…well, she didn't sell her body. But she observed the better part of it. She never drank much, figuring that one person should always keep their guard up. Plus, rum never really struck her taste palate. So she usually cradled one or two drinks all night, taking small sips of it at a time.

Jack sat somewhere in the tavern, with a lady on each lap. Camille had also gotten used to this as well. She didn't know what it was that she felt for Jack now that she was an official member of his crew. When she had been at Port Celebros, she found herself being convinced that she and Jack actually had a future. Now that she was able to observe his uncensored behavior, she wasn't sure if she'd been in love with a man or the thought of one.

She wasn't at all angry about mistaking her emotions, though. She and Ana Maria had become surprisingly close. And Camille absolutely loved being independent. She barely thought about her father or Gillette. She had become quite reliant on herself in little to no time. She smiled and laughed. She didn't know half of the tavern's population, but when it was this late at night/early in the morning, everyone was friends with each other.

Jack sat with two lovely ladies. Each of his hands were underneath a skirt, and he laughed and told them the stories that his crew was sick of hearing. He caught a glimpse of Camille playing cards with Mr. BoJangles (Cotton's parrot had been notoriously dubbed by her), and wondered for a split second if a girl like her would be all right with this lifestyle. And as the two twins led him upstairs, he found himself looking back. _What if I stayed?_

The thought flashed across his mind so quickly that he dismissed it as an effect of the rum, almost feeling embarrassed for having thought it. He was Captain Jack Sparrow. Notorious for never letting a woman tie him down. Being with the same one, he would miss this lifestyle. He wouldn't be allowed out drinking and bedding strange merchant woman; and what sort of decent man could live like that? Sighing, he followed the twins to an unoccupied room.

The next morning, Camille exited her room feeling very refreshed. The sky was as clairvoyant as the water, and she took in a deep breath of salty air. Looking around the deck, Mr. Gibbs was cursing and throwing cards all over.

She laughed. "Did the parrot beat you again, Mr. Gibbs?" she asked.

"Aye, that bird has got eyes in th' back o' his 'ead!" he said, shaking a fist in the air.

She shook her head. "Maybe next time."

"Aye, perhaps," Gibbs said.

She spotted Jack walking his swaying walk towards the gangplank. "Morning, Captain!" she shouted, putting on a smile. "Would you like steak or salmon for dinner?" she asked.

"Ugh," Jack mumbled. She was jealous, it was obvious. She was already mocking him. And he was in no mood for it. What a night. "Whatever's quickest to make," he replied as he boarded the ship. "There's much cleaning to do."

She nodded. "Yes, Captain," she said, turning her head as Ana Maria called her.

Jack looked after her, arms crossed. His expression was so sour that Gibbs was almost afraid to ask what had gone on last night. Fortunately, he didn't have to. Jack just shook his head slowly. "Never…NEVER sleep with twins when you are inebriated, Gibbs. Mark my words," he said seriously.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow. "Couldn't tell them apart when ye woke up?"

Jack nodded. "If you need to ever know one thing, it is not to upset a woman in the morning. Much less two women. You realize we can never go back there, Gibbs."

Gibbs nodded sadly. "Add it to the list, Cap'n?"

Jack nodded. "But Gibbs…" he called out as Mr. Gibbs began going below. "Scratch off Napau. It's been two and a half years."

"Aye, Cap'n."

Moaning, Jack squinted into the sunlight. He rubbed his forehead, trying to forget his headache for the time being. He couldn't stop thinking about last night and that thought that he should stay behind. What was WRONG with him? He must be sick or something, because he didn't even enjoy the sex last night. And it was with two women; every man's dream. It had only been the fourth time he had experienced such a miraculous thing; and here he'd been too distracted to enjoy it.

What was distracting him so much? Not to mention that the hangover hadn't even been worth it. They would simply stop in another port tonight, and he would make sure that he enjoyed himself this time. That was all there was to it.

Camille was up in crow's nest, trying to get to the sail with the giant tear in it. It had taken her awhile to figure out what ropes did what, but thanks to Ana Maria she was as good as any man on that ship. And through the lessons her fear of heights had lessened. It hadn't quite diminished, though. She looked dizzily down as she climbed through the riggings.

She listened quietly to the pirates that evening in the kitchen. Apparently they were docking again shortly. It had been quite a boring day for Camille, and she plodded off to bed not long after the meal.

She woke up to a gentle rocking. She had become quite used to it in the past few days. She could hear boots scraping across the desk above her and voices.

She made her way up on deck and saw that they were in the process of weighing anchor. "Camille!" Ana Maria called. "Where ya been, I've been looking all over for you?"

"I was down below. I'm terribly exhausted lately," she replied. "Why are we docking?"

"Captain's orders. He failed to mention why, but he's been in a foul mood lately. No one questions that man," Ana said cautiously.

"I don't think I want to go ashore. I'm just so tired."

"Well, you best get back down to your cabin. I've rarely been to these parts, but somethin' tells me it might be a good idea for someone to remain on the _Pearl_."

Camille nodded, saying goodnight and making her way back down to her cabin. She listened intently as the men left the ship one by one, hooting and hollering as they did so. She watched out her window as they disappeared among the slightly lit town.

She took out the book of William Wordsworth's poetry from under her pillow, lit the lantern, and proceeded to read until she finished the book. Great, what would she do now? It was fairly late, but she wasn't tired anymore. She looked at the book, considering whether to sneak into Jack's cabin or not. He'd already told her how obvious she was, and apparently he was in a horrible mood. Perhaps if she was able to put the book back on the shelf precisely where she'd found it, he wouldn't notice.

She took a deep breath, exiting the cabin. There was, of course, no one on the ship. She had nothing to worry about. "Okay," Camille told herself. Picking up her skirts, she ran up the stairs and across the deck, opening and shutting the door rapidly.

Now inside, she couldn't see a thing. She tried to give herself a moment for her eyes to adjust, but it was still too dark for her to see what she was doing. She sighed. She was about to admit to herself that she had no luck when she heard something outside.

Ducking, she listened closely to two voices. There were people walking around the deck. Peeking out through the window, she saw two strange men that weren't of the crew. One had an eye patch and grey hair, and the other one had long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail under a red bandana.

She looked around the dark cabin, for a weapon or something. _No, I'd make an absolute fool of myself_, she thought. She could see Jack's hat on his desk, and his coat was hung up. He must've been going casual.

Then an idea hit her. She took the coat off the hook and wrapped it around herself, sliding her arms in it. It felt heavy on her, and didn't smell like rum and sweat like she had imagined. It smelled…good. Old, but a good kind of smoky, slightly musty smell. Making her way over to the desk, she reached the hat and put in on her head, tucking her hair in the coat.

Turning around from the desk, she stumbled over something, almost ruining her plan. The two men looked alarmed. "What was that?" one of them said.

Camille cleared her throat, making sure to stand with his back to the window. "Gibbs?" she said in the manliest voice she could. "Gibbs, is that you? I said I don't want any bloody interruptions, you imbecile!" she shouted, raising her fist and shaking it a little, and then jiggling the door handle like she was about to come out.

This was intimidating enough for the men. "I thought you said he wasn't on the ship!" one whispered.

"Let's just get outta here. Leave it!" the other whispered back as they hastily left the ship.

She had to stop from laughing out loud. She was so impressed with herself, and even struck a pose, waving her arms about like the Captain. The cabin was still dark, and she lit one of the candles on his desk. After the room had a little light, she hung her head. It was a mess. "He's going to be furious with me," she said quietly.

Her stumbling around in the dark had caused maps and papers to scatter all over the place. She had no idea what order they went in, if there even was an order to them. He would believe her if she told him the truth, wouldn't he? Then she would have to admit why she was in his cabin in the first place.

She sighed, getting to her knees and beginning to pick up the papers. She was in big trouble, and she just had to face it. Her father couldn't get her out of it anymore.


	15. Nobody Touches the Hat

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 15: Nobody Touches the Hat

"QUARTERMAINE!"

The name rang out loudly, shaking the nerves of everybody on the _Black Pearl._ It was the very next morning. The Captain had just entered his cabin holding his head, trying his best to keep his balance. His face had been red, and he had managed to scare every member of the crew into doing their chores shortly after sunrise.

The entire deck stopped cold. All eyes turned to the girl underneath the hat sitting right below one of the masts, mending a badly ripped sail. She gritted her teeth upon hearing her name spoken with such distaste.

"IN MY CABIN! NOW!" Jack bellowed; a tone he rarely used.

Camille stood up, taking off her hat and dropping it on the deck. She could feel all eyes on her, and she walked quickly to the cabin, knowing not to waste time simply because she was scared to death.

She entered the cabin, which was much neater than the condition she had found it in. But that was only because she didn't know where to put things. _Oh God, I hope he doesn't hit me_, she thought.

"Close the door," he commanded. He was standing in the center of the room, feet apart, arms crossed over his chest, _glaring_ at her.

She did so, and tried to swallow some of the fear. She turned around, not looking at his face. "Yes, Captain?" she answered, surprised that she could hear her own voice.

"My things have been moved," he said sternly. "Look at me when I am speaking to you!"

She brought her eyes up to face his. She thought she could see little red flames in them. "Do you know anything about this, Camille?" he asked with the same dangerous tone.

"Yes I do, Captain. I-I moved them-"

"WHY did you move them? And on that note, what were you even DOING in here to begin with?" he exploded, waving his arms about and beginning to pace. It was all he could do to keep himself from throwing unnecessary punches.

"Well Captain, I tripped over them when I was in here because I couldn't see anything. So knowing better than to leave your cabin a mess, I…" she trailed off, seeing his twisted expression. "Uhm, I tried to pick it up a bit."

He exhaled slowly, turning again and continuing to pace. He stepped up to her, so that he was inches away from her face. He reeked of alcohol and smoke, but she was rigid with fear. This was the time not to complain about her personal space being invaded. Especially since he owned a sword and a pistol. "My hat was moved, Camille," he said with a terrifying calmness. He shook his head. "Nobody…NOBODY-" he said, causing her to jump, "-wears the hat!"

She took a breath. "I can explain that, too."

"And if you want to live, you will do that."

She blinked, all of a sudden angry instead of afraid. "Are you threatening to kill me for wearing your hat, Captain?" she said in an indignant tone.

He pulled away from her. "I have had a terrible past few days, Camille. I'm hungover, you've BROKEN INTO MY CABIN…"

"Well if you would just listen to me," she started.

"SHUT UP, WOMAN! YOU'LL SPEAK WHEN I TELL YOU TO!" he roared, turning around.

Camille was about to burst into tears. "I grabbed your hat and your coat because it was the only way I could think of to scare away the men that got aboard the ship last night!" she said quickly.

He stopped. "And when were you going to tell me that somebody was aboard my ship last night?" he questioned.

"As soon as you calmed down, honestly I was," she said, letting a tear escape and quickly wiping it away. She had to make it through this berating.

"Get out of my cabin," he said darkly.

She nodded, pulling the door open and running below. She made it to her bed before the flow of tears came. It didn't last long; about twenty minutes or so until she was able to pull herself together.

She decided that the best course of action would be to go back on deck, pull her hat way down, and focus on mending that sail until it was time for her to prepare supper. She took a shaky breath, wiping her face on her dress and redoing her hair.

The crewmembers tried not to look at her as she made her way back on deck, but it was extremely obvious they were all staring at her. Each one of them had heard the commotion from Jack's cabin earlier, and all of them were torn between curiosity and sparing the poor girl's dignity.

She was able to make it back to her post, plop down, and replace her hat. She pretended not to hear any utterances that went on around her, and absorbed herself completely with that sail until it was nearly back in one piece. Her fingers were sore and bloody by that afternoon, but she kept on mending until she heard Ana Maria's light footsteps.

Looking up for the first time in hours, she realized how stiff she was from sitting on the deck all day. She slowly rose to her feet, rubbing her sore back as she followed to the kitchen below. She could tell that Ana Maria wouldn't say anything first, so she broke the silence.

"Where did all this food come from?" she asked as she stepped into the kitchen.

"I went out and got it this mornin' before we left. I figured it was best to leave you to your thoughts," Ana said quietly.

Camille nodded. "Yes well, let's get started then," she said, making her way over to the vegetables. The two worked for a few minutes in silence, and then she spoke. "I know what you want to ask me, Ana Maria. It's all right, I'm not afraid to talk about it. It was simply a misunderstanding."

"A misunderstanding of what? You should know not to go through the Captain's things, girl," Ana Maria scolded.

Camille shook her head. "I didn't. I simply went inside with the intention of returning to his bookshelf a book which I had permission to have. Jack said that I was free to return it at any time, given I promise only to touch the bookshelf. Besides, he would know if I had stolen or rummaged through his belongings."

Ana Maria nodded. "Aye," she said knowingly. "For how much rum that man can consume, he's got eyes like a hawk and ears like a wolf," she agreed.

"Last night I was in there doing just that when I saw two strange men onboard. So I grabbed his coat and his hat and began muttering loud enough to scare them off. It may not have been the wisest course of action in retrospect, but it was all I could think of at the time."

"So you touched his things to defend the ship?"

"Well, I did stumble over his maps and letters. I didn't dare light a candle in there until I was sure I already had it in for me."

Ana Maria nodded understandingly. "When do ya think he'll want to believe your side of the story?"

Camille shrugged. "It could be decades. He was so belligerent with me, I was downright terrified."

Ana Maria chuckled. "The first time he ever raised his voice like that to me I cried for three straight hours," she remembered. "I remember it was me first time on kitchen duty. I accidentally dropped a bushel of potatoes through a hole when the boat rocked. We had been runnin' low on food, and that was the last of it. The entire crew didn't eat for a week."

"Oh, Ana Maria," Camille said sympathetically. She lowered her voice, feeling around in her dress. "By the way, what does a black spot written on a page mean?"

Ana Maria stopped what she was doing and straightened up, looking almost as shaken as she did that morning when Camille was called to Jack's cabin. "It's a pirate's death warrant," she whispered. "How did you find out about The Black Spot?"

Camille held it up, unfolding the page carefully. There was a large black spot in the center of it. "The men last night dropped this on the deck. I found it when I left Jack's cabin. I think it was meant for him."

Ana Maria sighed. "That poor man. It's the second one he's gotten this week."

"Wha…is that why he was so nervous a few days ago?" Camille asked, remembering Jack's pale state.

Ana nodded. "Camille, it's best that ya don't go around repeating what I'm about to tell ya. A lot of sailors…well, they like to tease Jack. And the thought of a mutiny or worse again just scares the living hell outta that man."

"Because of Barbossa?"

"Aye. He's never quite gotten over his fear."

"Well you can't really blame him. Are you saying that this was a prank?" Camille asked disbelievingly.

Ana Maria nodded silently. "It's best if you let the man keep his dignity, though. Take it to him as if you thought it were a real threat. If he finds out somehow that you've been hiding it, it'll break the man's heart."

"So it's just that then? Everyone knows he's being mocked, but nobody will come out and say anything?"

Ana Maria looked at her fiercely. "We don't dare say nothin' because Jack is our captain, and we respect him like that. He's a good man, Camille; ain't nothin' you can do to change our minds about that."

Camille bit her lip. She had already inadvertently insulted him enough today, and the last place she wanted to go was back in his cabin and get bellowed at again.

Ana Maria's eyes brightened. "Camille, didn't you say you saw the men?"

She nodded, not knowing what her friend was getting at. "I did."

"Then you could recognize them again, couldn't you?"  
Camille searched her memory. "Yes, I believe so."

"Well then, we know who it is. If you tell Jack the identities of those men, he can figure it out from there. It'll put him to sleep at night."

"Ana Maria, that is brilliant! I would have never thought of that. But I guess this means I'll have to go and confront him again."

"I can understand if you want me to go and tell him. But I think that if you go it will show him that you respect him enough to tell him something that important even though he's angry with you."

Camille thought about it, and after the meal was prepared she grabbed the dotted page and made her way upstairs.

Outside of the cabin, she took a deep breath but made sure not to hesitate. She didn't want the captain to have any more suspicions about her than he already did. She knocked briefly twice.

"Come in," his voice grunted from inside.

She opened the door, and saw him sitting back in his chair reading a map as if it were a book. His hat was off and placed on the desk at his feet. He casually drew his eyes up, expecting to see one of the men standing there asking him a simple question, but was somewhat taken aback when he saw the redhead trembling at his doorway.

"Didn't think I'd be seein' you so soon. Did I not frighten you enough, because I've still got a very large bone to pick with you, missy," he said in an annoyed tone.

"Captain, I saw the men who came aboard your ship last night. If we remain in the area, I could tell you exactly who they are," she informed him.

He swung his feet over the desk and planting them firmly on the ground. He rolled up the map he'd been pouring over, and placed it on the corner of his desk. "D'you know how bloody long it took me to clean up the mess you made in here? The only thing in its proper place is that book I let you borrow," he said, ignoring her previous comment.

She resisted the urge to slap him. He was pouting like a child, and when she remembered why she began to feel sorry for him. But she told herself that she would have to be the bigger person here, even though she had half a mind to break down and tell him what a good person he was. She cleared her throat. "Captain, did you hear m-"

"Yes, I heard you Camille!" he shouted, facing her. "What significance does it have to you wasting my time AGAIN?"

She held her ground, holding out the folded piece of paper. "They left this last night," she said as he unfolded it.

His eyes simply glanced at the paper. She could not see the unspeakable terror of the memory, or the relief in his eyes because he blinked and shook his head, folding the paper up and putting it in his pocket. "The Black Spot?"

Camille nodded. "Yes, Captain. One of them was missing an eye, and-" she silenced herself as Jack held up a hand.

"Shush, love. That's all I need to know. Thank you, Miss Camille. You may go now," he said firmly.


	16. The Feuding Legendary Brothers

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 16: The Feuding Legendary Brothers

It turned out that the two men who had boarded the ship had been members of Long John's crew. And although Jack would not readily admit it, he was now twice as much in debt to the girl for her bold actions. If she had not scared the two men into leaving the ship, there was no doubt in Jack's mind they would have taken the key from inside his coat pocket.

Camille never knew any of this as they pulled into the next port, Port Tostito. But Ana Maria and Gibbs had been keeping her very well informed. Apparently the bond between Jack and his brother John was a very tense one. Although their goal had been the same, they had never really gotten along. Jack was the younger of the two, and Long John had outdone him in anything and everything. So it was no surprise that Jack felt contempt towards his older brother.

The crew was in a tavern in the Port, drinking in a whorehouse as usual. "So is that why we're going to Peru? So that Jack can finally outdo John in one thing?"

Ana Maria laughed. "That and the fact that it's treasure, love. Sometimes you can be so naïve, Camille."

"Well I'm still new at this pirate thing," she said, defending herself. "I'm not as attached to material possessions."

The two women continued to laugh and talk until Camille felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. She turned around and saw an extremely handsome man grinning at her. And when he spoke, he had the most perfect Irish accent she had ever heard.

"Excuse me miss, but I was sittin' over at the other end and couldn't help but notice you. Would you let me buy you a drink?" he asked politely.

Ana Maria spoke up. "Of course she would!" Then she leaned over a little tipsily and whispered and Camille's ear. "I'll be over there," she informed her friend.

"So, what'll you have then?" the stranger asked her.

She turned to him. "I don't know, I can't really drink that much."

"Ah, come on now. An Irish girl who can't hold her liquor? What would people say?" he said lightly.

She laughed. "To be perfectly honest, I've never met another Irishman to judge that."

"Well there's a first time for everything," he said, ordering some shots. "William O'Rafferty. My friends just call me 'Bill' but you can call me whatever you like, Miss…"

"Uh, Quartermaine!" Camille blurted out. "Camille Quartermaine," she introduced herself.

He kissed her hand. "It's a pleasure, Miss Quartermaine."

Ana Maria made her way over to the table Jack was sitting at where he had two broads on either leg. He had been kissing and making out with them playfully as they laughed and drank more rum, but he focused a little when Ana Maria returned.

"Hey! Where's the other girl?" he asked, laughing as one of the whores kissed him on the neck.

Ana Maria nodded towards the bar where Camille and some strange man were laughing and drinking shots. And he could plainly see that she was increasingly becoming less and less aware of things. He sighed inwardly. He was going to take advantage of her, and she was going to learn a harsh lesson unless someone stepped in.

But the women were already trying to entice him to come to bed with them. Two women! Again! He looked longingly at the stairs that led to the bedrooms, and then looked back at Camille and her stranger. Hesitantly, he began following the women as Ana Maria waved goodbye to him and turned her attention to some of the crewmembers.

Jack was about halfway up the stairs when his conscience finally got the best of him. He excused himself, promising only to be a minute. The women looked at each other, bewildered, and began upstairs without him as he hurriedly made his way back downstairs.

Camille was obviously drunk, and the man had her right where he wanted her. He was already leading her away towards the door. Jack wondered what he was going to do. He had sort of started walking without a plan; but he did all things like this so he just assumed things would work themselves out.

"Camille! Camille, thank the powers I've found you!" he said, waving his arms about. "It's about the uh…" he cleared his throat, "…treasure," he said in a low voice.

"What treasure?" Camille said loudly, causing some heads to turn. "I dunno about any treasure-"

Jack looked at the man she was with. "Do you mind giving us a few minutes? Pirate stuff; very confidential," he said as he pushed the protesting Camille outside.

The man nodded slowly, looking a little confused.

Jack patted him on the arm. "There's a good lad." He led Camille outside, where she exploded at him.

"Jack, what the hell do you think you're doing? He's a decent man, and the first REAL Irishman I've met! What gives you the right to-to…"

He tried to shush her. "Camille, please listen to me darling. If you leave with that man he is not going to be there when you wake up, I promise you," Jack said seriously.

This only made her angrier. "Look Sparrow, I dunno what you think you're tryin' to pull just…just cause your brother's better than you. And your own damned crew doesn't respect you, no one does! They all wanna mutiny first chance they get! And…I love him, and I hate you!" she finished, staggering around and throwing her arms around in mad gestures.

Jack stopped completely. It was by far the worst drunken lecture he had ever gotten, and though he knew very well that she was beyond drunk the words still hurt. He straightened up. "Very well then, Miss Quartermaine. You're absolutely right, you are a grown woman. And as such I will not treat you like a child. The ship leaves at 10 o' clock tomorrow with or without you," he said monotonously as he went back into the tavern and upstairs. Once again, his mind was on other things.


	17. The Romantic Moonlit Scene

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 17: The Romantic Moonlit Scene

Camille woke up alone in a dirty bed. She could remember very vividly throwing a massive fit in front of her captain, and then walking away. Then she moaned and sank back down into the bed. She didn't even think she could move, the pain was so intense.

After rolling over and throwing up twice, she was able to slowly sit up. As she did, the covers fell away, exposing her naked body. And that was when she remembered that she had been with someone.

With a sob, she covered up herself again and put her face in her hands. How could she have been so stupid? She felt so ashamed of herself. She didn't even know if anyone would want her back aboard the _Pearl_ now.

"It's exactly 10 o'clock, Gibbs. Is everyone accounted for?" Jack asked lazily as he took the helm.

Gibbs nodded, taking sips of his leather flask. "Aye, Cap'n. Crew's all here."

Jack lifted an eyebrow. "Are you sure, Gibbs?"

But the man nodded with more confidence than he was known to have. "Aye. Shall I give the orders?"

"Yes, Gibbs," he said drawlingly. In the back of his mind he had been thinking about Camille since last night. She had not only worried and upset him, but now he found his curiosity getting the best of him. What had she been like? But on the other hand, she had been the only woman that he had dared not to try and get in bed. He didn't know why. She was so mysterious, and yet so strong to have gotten him so intrigued. He couldn't get her off his mind, which of course made him even more frustrated than losing his dignity did.

Camille had been in bed the entire day, trying to get rid of her hangover and feeling sorry for herself. She had finally remembered the words she had yelled at Jack Sparrow last night, and it made her cry every time. Why hadn't he slapped her for saying that? Nobody deserved to hear that about themselves, especially when it wasn't true. And more than ever, she just felt vulnerable. She wanted to be back in Ireland, with her mother, sitting in front of the fireplace before bedtime and drawing in the sand.

She didn't care about making dinner. She waited until the whole crew went to bed before she even dared to show her face on deck. She still felt queasy, but she couldn't sleep anymore.

She sat near the stern, behind the captain's cabin to avoid being seen by whoever had the helm. She was able to stop crying and steady her breathing as she looked out upon the water. The moon wasn't out, so she couldn't tell whether the waves were dolphins or just waves. She let out one more audible sigh. What was she going to do now?

She heard a sound and didn't even bother to turn around. She knew it was Jack, because he was the last person she wanted to talk to and had been for the past several days. So of course it would be just her luck that Jack Sparrow was right there behind her. "Go away, please. I don't want to talk to you," she said sadly.

But he stood his ground, leaning on the banister in his usual manner. "I'm sorry he didn't stay, Camille."

She looked down at the waves. "Why should you be sorry, I'm the fool. You warned me last night, you tried to tell me," she insisted. "I should've listened."

This surprised Jack a little, because Camille usually wasn't this willing to admit when she'd made a mistake; which didn't surprise him since she made very few mistakes compared to him. "Well to be fair, you were quite drunk. You can't be expected to always be in control, darling."

She looked at him. "Apologies, Camille." He knew she hated it when he called her things like that.

"Jack, don't be nice to me I was completely wrong last night."

"Welcome to the life of a pirate."

She took her gaze away from the water and looked at him. "Jack, what I said last night…I didn't mean it at all, you've got to believe me."

He shrugged. "I do."

"I just don't know why I would get so angry like that, it was completely rude, it was so ignorant to say those things to you. After you've let me become a crewmember and then let me back on this ship after I've insulted you in every possible way…" she took a deep breath and stopped rambling. "It just doesn't seem right. I'm sorry Jack, I can't say anymore than that, I've just-everything I have tried to do has been with the best intention and…" she buried her head in her arms. "…I'm such a mess," she sulked.

Jack nodded understandingly. "I know. It's all right, nothing to worry about. We're all worse off than you are," he said, trying to make her feel better. He prayed that she would stop crying any minute so that he wouldn't have to get any closer to her. But her face remained hidden. "Camille, are you going to be all right?" he inquired, trying to get a glimpse of her.

"I'm fine Jack, just go away," she said in a muffled voice.

"Somehow I doubt you mean that."

She straightened up, wiping her eyes. "I am, I'll be all right. I think I'm just homesick is all, Captain."

His heart dropped to his feet. "Homesick? From Port Celebros; from your father?"

She looked at him funny. "Of course not. From my home, in Ireland, with my mother," she said honestly. "I think I want to go back."

"To Ireland?" he questioned.

"Aye."

He looked at her. She looked so sad, and he wanted nothing more than to see her green eyes sparkle like he had so many times before. But at the same time he was angry at her for giving up so easily. "Camille, living in Ireland is not going bring your mother back," he said without even thinking. Then his eyes widened, realizing what he had just said.

Camille looked pretty taken aback, as well. But it was true. No matter how Camille lived the rest of her life, her mother would not be coming back. And unexpectedly, she laughed, throwing Jack off. "Captain Sparrow, I think we may be entirely too honest with each other."

Jack smiled. "It's hard to be anything else with you, my dear." He turned around and looked out at the water, putting his hand out as the ship hit a big wave. "And while we're on the subject of mothers, I think it's about time I give you some motherly advice. Are you ready?" he looked back at her.

She nodded, stepping up next to him. "Tell me, I'm livid with anticipation."

He pointed his finger at her. "Watch it, missy," he said jokingly.

She laughed. "So what is it, Jack?"

"Well ever since I were a lad, my mother would always tell me not to spend my entire life searching for something. Because if I did, than I would miss other opportunities. Of course, I never did listen to that woman since I'm constantly searching for treasure."

Camille snickered. "I think I see what you're trying to tell me. Are you telling me not to spend my life searching for my home because I'll never be happy?"

"If you don't feel at home with the way you're living right now you're always going to be miserable."

"You know Jack, you and Ana Maria are two of the most honest people I have ever met in my life. I don't know how other people feel about you, but I don't care. You're a good man Jack, and your brother is a bloody idiot for thinking otherwise." She turned to face him, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed him on the cheek. "And I feel at home when you're here." She took this opportunity to leave before he could respond, and made barely a noise as she padded away in her bare feet.

Jack sighed gently and looked after her. He didn't know why, but that female was for some reason growing on him; intriguing and further enticing him by the minute. She was so sweet and kind…she had no business being on a pirate ship. And he almost felt guilty about bringing her aboard.


	18. Port Luca

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And I borrowed the name of Luca from Final Fantasy X-2.

A/N: Thank you for all of the reviews! I didn't know it was such a well-liked story! Jaynie Grace, thank you for the constructive criticism, but the name Quartermaine is from Sean Connery's character in _the League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_, Dorian is from _The Picture of Dorian Gray_, and I just really like the name Camille even though it is French. Peter Pan has nothing to do with Depp's movie and I know that it wasn't written that long ago, but I thought it would be a cute scene to put in.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 18: Port Luca

It had been ages since any of them had seen land. The crew was practically going mad without having a town in sight to pillage or take any pleasurable company. Camille was now as good a fighter as anyone onboard the _Pearl_, thanks to the sword fighting lessons that Ana Maria had been giving her. It kept the both of them sane in between washing dishes and scraping the barnacles off the hull of the ship.

Camille had even begun to make her very own clothes, since all the mending she had to do had given her tons of experience. She had several simple dresses, and had crafted a female version of the typical swashbuckling outfit.

"LAND HO!"

The cry was heard, and everyone onboard flew to the side of the ship, looking with or without spyglasses. Cheers of joy shook the air as the crew began making plans already.

Hours later, they were docking at Port Luca. They had never been that far, and everyone was anxious to set foot in the town. Camille was wearing her trousers that day, and had her hair braided and held back by a green bandana. She had a white blouse on, with a sort of corset-like black outside to avoid any embarrassing moments if she happened to get water on herself.

"Camille!"

She whirled around, facing Jack. Together, the two looked almost identical since she had used mainly his look for the inspiration of her own. Not to mention it was much more comfortable than even the lightest cotton dress. "Yes, Captain?"

"I think it's high time you learned the tricks of the trade. And you will learn from none other than yours truly how to be a thief. We are going into Port Luca in ten minutes," he explained.

She nodded. "Aye." Their relationship was still unsteady as ever. Ever since her last moonlit chat with the captain, he had seemed to finally accept her as absolutely no different from any other member. And sometimes it made her happy. But there were other times when she wished that he could be more of a confidant to her like Ana Maria and Mr. Cotton.

She followed Jack into town and took note of everything he did. Every move he made, every look on his face, every sack of money he pilfered. She was able to do it all perfectly, and was never noticed once. They spent the morning walking the streets, seeing (and stealing) the sights, and by the afternoon they were sitting in a tavern.

"I have to say darling, your filching skills are quite impressive. Are you sure you didn't spend most of your childhood pretending that you were a scallywag?" Jack asked her.

"I'm sorry Jack, I'm afraid I can't tell you my secret," she said playfully.

He chuckled, getting up. "Would you like anything? Brandy, perhaps?"

She shook her head and waited for him to come back. While she drummed her fingers on the table, she looked around. The town was beautiful, and reminded her of Port Celebros except it was much smaller. And it was a very crowded town, as well. The tavern was nice and clean though, which was something she was not used to from such a lifestyle.

She did notice a few important-looking people walk into the tavern. She was able to recognize one of them as a man she had very recently pickpocketed. And the other two looked like officials of some sort. She ducked beneath the table, pretending to tie her boots as she looked at them. The man looked around the tavern, missing her but seeing Jack. He pointed and whispered something to one of the officials, and Camille decided it was time to act fast.

She made her way over to Jack, who was just ordering. "Excuse me Jack," she interrupted.

He looked at her tiredly. "One rule, Camille. The one thing that I ask of you-"

"-is to never come between you and your rum, Jack I know. But what should we do if a man and two officers are coming towards us with less than friendly looks on their faces?" she asked, nodding towards the men.

Jack turned around, and smile at Camille. "Ah. Then we run, love," he said, taking her hand and leading her swiftly behind the bar and through a door. They headed down a small hallway, and out another door until they were outside.

Jack looked around. "Now then, which way did we come from? Was it that way?" he asked, pointing in a direction.

"No, I think it was that way," Camille said, pointing in the other direction.

"Very well, then. This way," he said, leading her in a third direction. The men were now outside the tavern looking around, and it wasn't hard to spot Jack's and Camille's colorful bandanas weaving through the crowd.

They ran until they reached a number of buildings, and Jack pushed her in front of him and into an alleyway. Camille pressed herself against the wall, trying not to grin. Her heart was beating fast from running, and the adrenaline was pumping through her. This was so exciting for her; one of her numerous adventures with Jack.

Jack was kneeling, peering around the corner. He straightened up. "They're headed this way. Quickly, love. On top of that," he whispered, nodding towards a high fence. He gave her a boost, and she was able to get over it easily enough. There was another alley on the other side, and she looked back over. "Jack!" she called.

No reply. She got on her hands and knees, listening for anyone on the other side. She was able to hear the three men talking with each other. Jack must've taken off. What now?

She stood up and brushed herself off. Where would he have gone? She continued down the alley, and finally came out at another point in the marketplace. She continued to walk through, looking as inconspicuous as possible. Somebody brushed against her, nearly knocking her over.

"Hey!" she said.

"I'm sorry," the man apologized. He didn't even look at her and continued on his way.

She kept walking a little bit, grumbling to herself. Now how would she possibly find Jack? She reached into her pocket. It was empty! She looked back as the man stopped at a fruit stand, counting out HER MONEY. She began backtracking, but as she got closer to the man she couldn't believe her eyes. It was someone she knew. It was Will.


	19. Cadence Turner

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And I borrowed the name of Luca from Final Fantasy X-2.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 19: Cadence Turner

As he paid the vendor and turned around, he saw her with her hands on her hips. "Are you going to pay me back, Mr. Turner?" she demanded playfully.

He narrowed his eyes, recalling her face for a moment. Then they widened in realization. "Camille! I'm so sorry, I didn't know it was you. To be fair though, you look quite different." He stepped towards her and kissed her hand. "It's lovely to see you again, Miss Quartermaine."

She smiled. "The feeling's mutual, dear William. What on earth are you doing all the way out in Port Luca? Off to see the world, are we?"

Will sort of smiled, and it was then that she noticed just how sickly pale his face looked. He had lost a good deal of weight, which made him look even worse since he'd been a fairly thin man to begin with. But she didn't want to pry right into his personal life in the middle of a town while she was being hunted. And sure enough as she looked around, she spotted the officials.

"Will, that reminds me. I'm sort of being…well, looked for. Is there any place around here where I could, uhm-" she began.

Will caught sight of the officers, and without a second thought grabbed Camille by the arm. "This way." He led her out of the marketplace, to a shabby-looking side of town. She wondered where he was taking her, but didn't ask. A favor was a favor, and she was most grateful to not be arrested yet.

They came to a small shop. The wooden sign had a faded anvil on it. "Ah!" she said, remembering that Will had been a blacksmith. "Your shop, I see."

"My home," he corrected as he opened the door. "And I promise that I will pay you back as soon as I get the money," he said, taking out the pouch that Camille had stolen.

They entered, and inside was one rocking chair by the fireplace. In it was a Spanish-looking woman with a small child. Will took the child and handed the pouch to the woman. "Gracias, Isabella," he said kindly. "Manana?"

She nodded as she exited. "Si, senor Turner."

Camille bit her lip. She still wasn't able to comprehend why he was living in this tiny shop and all the way out in Port Luca. And Elizabeth was not to be seen at all. Had they separated? It still wouldn't explain why Will was across the sea.

A small cry woke her from her daze. The child that Will was holding was smiling and clapping, eating small pieces of the strawberries he had bought for her. She looked like she was no more than a year old, sitting on the ground with her fuzzy brown hair in her little gown.

"Will, she's absolutely gorgeous. What's her name?" she asked, kneeling down next to the child and waving at her.

"This is my daughter, Cadence Turner. And she loves to eat fruit, as you can see. If you'll excuse me, I've got to find something to clean her off with," Will said, leaving for a moment. He reappeared with a cloth.

Camille sat down next to the baby. "Well, hello there," she said.

"Hello," Cadence said happily.

"Cadence, this is Camille," Will said slowly, enunciating his words clearly as he knelt down and started wiping the juice off her hands and face. "Can you say Camille?"

Cadence blinked, and looked at Camille. "Camy," she said.

"Very good!" Camille exclaimed, clapping her hands together. Cadence laughed and did the same. "What else can she say, Will?"

"She can say just about anything if you repeat it enough. Isn't that right, Cadence?" he said, picking her up and kissing her on the cheek. He looked at Camille. "I know you must have questions. Would you permit me to put Cadence to sleep first?"

"Of course, Will," she said. "Please."

"Thank you," he said, before leaving to another part of the shop.

She stared into the fire. No Elizabeth. That explained the sickly-looking Will. And he was obviously sacrificing his own health for the baby's. Cadence seemed perfectly healthy. She could just not understand what had happened. And what about that Jack Sparrow, where was he? She'd practically forgotten about him and their priority. Perhaps she should inform him of her finding Will.

Will reentered the room, looking exhausted. The glow of the fire against his skin made him look paler than ever. "She's asleep," he said, stating the obvious. "Well, where do I begin?" he said, pacing. "Please, have a seat," he said. There was a small table in the corner by some barrels and bales of hay. "I'm sorry I have no food, and this place isn't much, but you are welcome to stay as long as you need."

"Thank you, Will," she said, leaning against one of the barrels. It was then that she noticed all of the empty bottles that were surrounding her feet. "You've been drinking an awful lot, Will," she said cautiously.

"Yes I have, for the past month and a half. Elizabeth is dead," he said plainly. He wasn't facing her. He was staring into the fire, with his hands around his back.

"Dead? How?" Camille blurted out, shocked.

"Cancer. Cancer of the breast," Will said slowly.

She stepped forward. "Oh my God. Will, I'm so sorry, that's terrible news. So that's why you're no longer in Port Royale?"

He shook his head. "Governor Swann passed a couple of years ago. The house was in my name, but because of my drinking the government didn't want me to have custody of Cadence."

"Good lord, so you're here and you're poor? This is no way to raise a child," Camille said, raising her voice.

"Camille please, the last thing I need is a lecture on how to raise my daughter," he begged.

"Will, I'm not angry with you, you've done nothing wrong. I can't believe they would threaten to take away your child after losing your wife! Do they have any idea how hard it is for a single parent to raise a child? Bloody British society, of all the nerve…" she fumed.

"They were only looking out for the well-being of my child, Camille," Will said quietly.

"As are you. But you can't do this alone, you're sick."

"I'm fine," he insisted.

"William, I'm about the last person to believe a bluff like that. You're not eating, you probably aren't sleeping. You can't last like that forever, you're going to run out of energy soon."

"Well, it isn't like I have many options. I work fourteen hours a day just so that I can feed Cadence, I can't do much more than that."

She shook her head. "You're damn right you can't. That's more than anyone should ever have to do. And I have got a brilliant idea!" she exclaimed.

"Like what?"

"Her name is Annie, and she is my housekeeper. She's raising two children, and I'm sure that as long as she had your help she wouldn't mind raising a third. And you'll be in Port Celebros, so you won't have to worry about having Cadence taken away from you. Plus, my father would be delighted to have another daughter," she said animatedly.

"Camille, I can't live with you in that house. I could never impose like that."

"I don't live there anymore. The sea's my home now," she informed him.

"But I can't just walk into a house and expect people to take me in."

"Well, I suppose not. But it couldn't hurt to try, could it? I won't take no for an answer. Tomorrow the two of you are coming aboard the ship."

"Camille, I can't," he insisted.

"Oh please, Will? I guarantee that under my care the two of you will never run out of food, and you'll always have a place to sleep. And there will always be someone to watch Cadence when you need to rest, Will. Your health is just as important as hers, you know. The two of you depend on each other."

Will shook his head. "I have to build a life of my own here. Yes, it is a little rough now, but I can't just have people taking Cadence and me in all the time. She needs stability."

"And you'll both get that. I promise you the journey will not be dangerous at all. The ship is commanded by a very good, respectful man. He would never let anything happen to you."

"Camille, it's tempting. It really is. But how can you be so confident about all of this?"

"Just trust me. And in the morning, if you don't follow me I will knock some sense into you with one of those crowbars," she said, pointing to the tools hanging around the shop. "Now please, Will. Try and get some sleep."

He sighed. "I don't know what you're planning, but I suppose it wouldn't be in my best interest to refuse your invitation. Goodnight, Camille. There's a spare bed in the loft."

"Thank you, William. Good night."


	20. Denial

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 20: Denial

The next day the three of them were hurrying through the streets. "Did you say that you lived at sea now, Camille?"

"I did. I got into a disagreement with my father about the whole marrying Gillette thing, and since then I've just been traveling," she said as she led them through the bustling square. "There's the ship!" she said as they made there way up to the dock where dozens of ships were.

"Uh, Camille," Will said, stopping just before the gangplank. "You failed to mention that you were a pirate aboard the _Black Pearl_," he said, switching Cadence to his other side.

She grinned, looking up against the sun. "Did I? Trifles, love."

"How did I possibly miss that? You're even starting to sound like him," Will said.

The wee man stuck his head over and yelled down at Camille. "Oy! Quartermaine! Cap'n's not too happy with ye!"

"Oh, he'll get over it," she said, waving her hand about. They started up the gangplank.

"Camille, about this promised safe journey aboard a ship commandeered by Jack…" Will began.

"Will, if that man thinks he is going to put this ship in any kind of danger with a baby aboard, I will personally feed him to the sharks," she assured him as they set foot on deck.

"The only one who's going to be fed to the sharks is you, woman," Jack said making his way up to them. "Where the bloody hell do you think-William!" he exclaimed, shaking his friend's hand and embracing him. "And who is this?" he questioned, looking at Cadence.

Camille cleared her throat. "I believe that you two gentlemen have a little catching up to do. I'll take Cadence, Will." Cadence was handed to her and the two of them walked off. "Cadence, do you remember how to say Camille?"

"Camy!"

Jack crossed his arms and leaned against his desk, looking at his friend. Something was definitely wrong with this picture. Will looked like he hadn't eaten in weeks. His skin was pale, there were large purple shadows over his eyes, and he could tell that Will was exhausted. And where was Elizabeth? That was the second thing that didn't make sense.

"Jack, it's great to see you again. It really is. But Camille has gotten into her head this crazy idea that I need to come back to Port Celebros," he said, trying to laugh. "Cadence and I are perfectly fine, and she doesn't see that."

"Over the years, I've learned to trust that woman's judgment," Jack explained, eyeing Will. "What's going on, mate?"

Will sighed. "I really don't want to talk about it. I'm just…I'm really tired is all," he lied.

"Tired and smelling of alcohol before noon?" Jack probed. "Will, if you're not going to tell me anything than Camille will. Why not just save her the trouble, eh?" he urged.

Will looked really irritated. He put his head in his hands. "She's dead, Jack. And I have turned into an alcoholic, all right? Are you satisfied?"

"Who's dead? Elizabeth? Will, what happened?" Jack asked sincerely.

A half-full glass of rum sat on the edge of Jack's desk, and Will grabbed it, downing the rest. He slammed it down. "You see? See what I've become? I'm hopeless, Cadence doesn't deserve a wretch like me for a father," he said dejectedly.

Jack sighed. He was still trying to put all of this together in his head. How could Elizabeth be dead? She was so young. And Will was really, really depressed. This was going to be quite a challenge for him.

After offering his sympathies for a bit and convincing Will to go down to one of the rooms and get some sleep, Jack made his way back up on deck where Camille and Cadence were counting. His spirits were lifted a little when he saw them. He could never get over how excited Camille always looked when talking with children.

"…five, six, seven, eight, nine…what comes after nine? Ten, that's right!" Camille said, clapping her hands along with the little girl. She looked up to see Jack looming over them. "Jack, she is so smart. She can count to ten, and she already knows almost half the alphabet. I'm very impressed."

He smiled and looked at Cadence. "Is that so odd for a child?"

"It is for her age. Did you speak to Will?"

"Yes, Camille and I think you may have found him just in time."

"Is he that bad?"

"The man's a mess; it's plain to see. He's completely in denial about anything."

Camille stood up, leaving Cadence to babble and crawl around. "Jack, we've got to help him."

"Well I intend to, love. But how is the question."

"I told him that I would ask Annie in my father's house if she would be willing to take them in."

"Back in Port Celebros! And I suppose you want me to turn this bloody ship around and go halfway across the world again to drop them off?" he exclaimed.

"Not if you're going to react like that. I can always write to her, and they can always get off at the any port we pull into. I just thought that it would be safest for them to travel with us."

Jack took a deep breath. "I suppose you're right, he's just as helpless as the little lass."

"Oh, no Cadence! No, we don't eat rope!" Camille said, swooping up the baby and taking it out of her mouth. "No darling, that's icky. Are you hungry for lunch, Cadence?"

Cadence nodded. "Yes."

"All right then, well we'll have to find you something to eat. Do you have any teeth?" she asked, gently opening the baby's mouth. She had a number of them. "Good, I don't have to mash anything."

"Camille darling, as hard as you are trying I don't think you're going to have a decent conversation with the infant," Jack called wittily.

"Perhaps you'd like to join us then, Captain?"

"Delighted you asked. And by the way, I don't think we've had a proper introduction," he said, making his way over.

"That's right. Cadence, this is Jack Sparrow. Jack Sparrow."

"Dak Barrow."

Jack lifted up an eyebrow. "She's good."

Camille laughed. "Isn't she, though? She's been raised very well," she said, standing up for Will. Jack agreed, leading them into the galley.

"That she has, lass."


	21. Closer Than Companions

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

SHE WAS A PHANTOM OF DELIGHT

Chapter 21: Closer Than Companions

Jack and Camille had discussed Will's situation and come to an agreement; Jack would do his best to put Will back together while Camille took care of the baby. It was about a week later, and things seemed to be going fine. Cadence had been no trouble at all, and Camille rather enjoyed watching and playing with her. She was able to balance out most of her duties, leaving little burden on Ana Maria.

"Ana, have you seen Jack around lately? I've barely seen the man," Camille said in the kitchen one day. Cadence was playing with a little rag doll they had made for her out of their old dresses.

"No, I really can't say I have," Ana Maria said as she kept her eye on the baby.

"Hmm, he must be working hard then to help Will out. And little Cadence here has been a very good girl as of late," she said, smiling towards the baby. Little Cadence laughed and chewed on the end of her doll.

"I have to say Camille, I certainly am impressed with Jack for doin' that. It just…well, it don't seem like somethin' the man would do," Ana Maria admitted.

"Perhaps something has just changed in the captain," Camille said as she sliced carrots.

That evening, the two women had just finished putting Cadence to bed. They were anchored at a nearby port to pick up some more provisions, mainly simple foods and diapers for Cadence.

Camille had just finished singing the baby to sleep in Gaelic when she thought she was hearing sort of an echo. Closing the door behind her, she made her way on deck. The noises were getting louder. She spotted Ana Maria leaning over the banister. "Ana Maria, what on Earth is that horrible noise?" Camille asked.

Ana nodded towards the docks. "It's Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum," she said. Camille made her way up to the banister and let her jaw drop as she saw Jack and Will staggering along, singing. Will's arm was around Jack's neck, and neither one of them had very good balance as they nearly toppled over each other before ascending the gangplank.

"-and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties, yo ho…" they said in extremely slurred voices.

Ana Maria sighed. "I knew it. I'll take care of Jack."

Camille was balling her fists in fury at seeing this. Jack had made a promise to her! She waited until the two of them got up the gangplank and then erupted into a chorus of laughter. She nodded to her friend. "Don't hold back."

"Oh, you know I won't," Ana Maria said in a dangerous tone. "When I'm done with that man, he'll be screaming for Barbossa."

They stood over the men with their arms crossed. Jack just looked up and smiled. "Evenin', loves. D'you have any rum on you?" he tried to add more to it, but just began laughing until Ana Maria yanked him up by the ears.

Camille focused on the other one. "William James Turner, what on Earth do you think you're doing?" she asked, her mouth set in a straight line.

Will looked at her confused. "How'd you know my middle name?" he slurred.

"I guessed it!" she said, before slapping him harder than she had ever slapped Jack. He staggered back, looking even more bewildered than before.

"Ouch! What was that for?" he said before sinking to his knees. She could see he was beyond any intelligible communication.

"You had better remember that in the morning if you don't remember what I'm about to say to you," she said as she pulled him up like a small child by his collar. "What the HELL do you think you're doing? All week long I have been taking care of YOUR child, only to find out that you go and get bloody drunk with Jack the entire time?" She slapped him again. "You need to be there for Cadence, you need to take care of her! Spending every cent you get on booze is NOT how to raise a child, and I'll be damned if I'm going to sit idly by and watch you throw your life and hers away! This is _NOT GOING TO BRING ELIZABETH BACK, WILL_!" she said, shaking him. At the mention of Elizabeth's name, she knew she had finally gotten through to him. His eyes glazed over, and he began crying. He began bawling was more like it.

Camille stood up straight with her hands on her hips. This was really pathetic. He was a complete mess. And now he was stinking drunk. She took a few deep breaths before letting herself speak again.

"Now, Will," she said, trying to calm him down. "Will, you have got to pull yourself together. I know it's hard, but you HAVE to do this for Cadence. She needs you. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" she asked. He nodded slowly.

She sighed, pulling him up by the arm. "Go to bed, Will. And I don't want you touching that baby until you sober up, tremors and all. You are not to touch one drop of alcohol during the remainder of this voyage, is that clear?" she said sternly.

Will lowered his eyes. "Yes," he said softly.

"All right then, goodnight Will." She watched as he disappeared below deck. She sighed, leaning on a barrel and rubbing her temples. She heard a sudden crash and watched as a chair broke through Jack's window and landed upside down on the deck. She gasped, wondering if letting Ana Maria handle Jack had been a good idea. But he made her blood boil as well. Something told her that things would have been just the same had she had to deal with that man. She turned around and went down below, listening to the yelling until she was able to fall asleep.

For the next few days, Jack literally tiptoed around the ship. Camille never saw him, but never went out of her way to look for him since she was still terribly angry with him. Will had been scared into keeping his promise about not touching alcohol, and it was obvious because he got delirium tremors so badly that he was confined to bed.

Camille took care of Cadence as usual, and was reading her a bedtime story a few nights later when Will unexpectedly appeared. The two of them looked up. "Daddy!" Cadence exclaimed.

He smiled warmly. "Hello, darling," he said. "Camille, I'll put her to sleep. I know you've probably been on your feet all day," he offered.

She put the book down and looked at the baby. "Goodnight, Cadence." She kissed the child on the forehead and let the two of them alone, ascending onto the deck.

The night was beautiful. The ship rocked back and forth gently, and there was just barely a breeze to go with the warm air. The moon was waning away, and only a small sliver of it was left to shine just a little light on deck. She sighed and closed her eyes, letting the calm of the sea take over. On nights like this, she understood why there were people like Jack and Ana Maria and Gibbs in the world.

She took a seat on the steps leading up to Jack's cabin. The lights were out, so there was no doubt he was hiding from Ana Maria. She could hear some crewmembers playing cards somewhere on deck, but didn't care to look for them.

A few minutes later, Will appeared. He spotted Camille and smiled, stepping up beside her. "May I?" he asked politely.

"Oh, of course," she replied, gesturing for him to sit down next to her. "You look healthy for once. I must've been terrifying to scare you into quitting that fast."

Will chuckled. "I have never heard a woman yell like that before. And through my years I have learned that a woman's temper is never something to question."

"Well you're certainly not an idiot like our delightful captain," Camille said, rolling her eyes.

"He was only trying to help. It was the only thing he knew to do, he's not a talker."

"Then he should've come to me. We agreed to help you do this together."

"Camille, you know as well as I do that Jack doesn't function on the same level as the rest of us," Will said. "His intentions were good."

"But he's still a bloody moron," she insisted.

He laughed. "I'm not here to badmouth Jack. I want to thank you, for everything so far. You've been a big help to Cadence and me; I can't imagine things running this smoothly for her without you."

Camille grinned. "Will, don't make me blush. You know I would do it in an instant all over again. By the by, I've just received a letter back from Annie. I told her all about the situation, and she wrote-well, she practically ordered me to bring you immediately to the house. She said that as far as she was concerned you were already a part of the family, as strange as that might seem now."

"Camille, I don't know what to say. That is wonderful news. I really can't thank you enough."

She laughed. It felt good to see Will like this; he seemed much more together. And he looked incredibly well groomed and smelled nice, as well. It was a relief to see him this way.

"Uhm, by the way Camille, I hope you don't mind me asking you this: But are you and Jack…?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"I'm afraid I don't know the answer to that," she said honestly.

"Really?"

She shook her head. "I don't know what we are to each other. I'd really like to call it a friendship, but sometimes it just feels like we're merely acquaintances."

"But you've been on this ship for years now, haven't you?"

She nodded. "Aye. And believe me, at one point I think I may have actually convinced myself that I was in love with a pirate. But that was before I became one."

Will looked at her with interest. "So what happened?"

"Well, I got to know him, as bad as that sounds. I got to see him go out drinking, and sleeping with numerous, numerous…NUMEROUS women. And it didn't take long for me to realize that what I had made up in my mind to be this exciting, thrilling, newfound sense of love was nothing more than a girlish fantasy."

"Oh Camille, I'm sorry. I could have told you that," Will said sympathetically.

"No, it's okay because you didn't. And I figured it out on my own, and I'll bet it was a lot faster than most women did."

He nodded. "Most likely."

"That's the part I like."

He looked at her. "Excuse me? I'm afraid I don't understand. You mean to say that you're not crushed or disappointed?"

She shook her head. "No, not at all!" she insisted. "I like being aboard this ship, I really do. And I like Jack. He may be a womanizer, but I'm still VERY attracted to him at times. Not to mention, Ana Maria's the best friend I've ever had. Will, I have never regretted setting foot aboard this ship, even though the reasons have changed dramatically. I hope you'll feel the same way someday about your life."

Will sighed. "So do I. I'm glad you've finally found peace, Camille. Right now, I just want to protect Cadence from anything that's out there."

"Oh, and you will. You can't help but raise a beautiful girl like that less than perfectly. That child has got everything, Will. And you've given it to her."

He looked at her oddly.

"You'll know what I mean someday." She stood up, brushing off her dress. "Well Mr. Turner, I think it's time for me to retire. It's been quite a long day."

He got up and took her hand, kissing it. "I'll say it has. Goodnight, Camille. I will see you in the morning."

She smiled. "Yes. Goodnight, Will."


	22. Whiskey & Sangria

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And the title for this chapter is a song by Eileen Ivers.

Chapter 22: Whiskey and Sangria

Jack continued to lay low, as Camille and Will grew closer by the day. Camille had forgotten how good it felt to open up to somebody, to form a friendship with an acquaintance, and to just plain laugh out loud at a story for the first time.

That night Will was recapping the capturing of _The Interceptor_, and it amused her quite a bit to hear about it. The particular tavern they were in happened to be filled with a variety of people, from whores to sailors, to some even wealthier upper class citizens. Camille kept her eye on Will so that he wouldn't touch anything containing alcohol, and only allowed herself a glass or two so that she could still maintain some type of control. Of course, Will took sips when Camille wasn't looking. But this time it wasn't to forget Elizabeth. The liveliness of the tavern had reminded him so much of the life he wanted to feel once again. Before long, he and Camille were dancing to violins and guitars, and any kind of other instrument that was being played loudly that evening.

She smiled and laughed, hearing the music play. She felt at home when she danced or when she sang. She'd never done this with Jack; the only time she had ever witnessed that man dancing had been in Port Celebros when he was in disguise. But he had never come dancing with her in taverns late at night. She could feel Will's grip tightening around her as he pulled her closer. He smiled as they spun around and clapped, tapping their boots on the floor and tables or chairs.

Most of the night went by in a blur, except the last song. It had a fast beat to it, and the ocarina sounded beautiful along with the guitars and fiddles. The music stopped, and went into another fast song when she felt Will's arms around her waist. She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. _God, I shouldn't have had anything to drink_, she thought. All the music had gotten her adrenaline pumping, and nights like these were the ones where she realized just how much she missed the touch of a man, and how desperate she felt at this moment. _You can't. Not him_, she told herself. But he was breathing on her neck.

She turned around and looked into his eyes. He was so close to her! And he was obviously thinking the same thing. This was really bad. And what was even worse; she could feel herself giving in and moving closer to him. So she did what any girl in her position would do. She kissed him passionately.

Once she did, all hope of any control over the situation was lost. He pressed her up against the wall, sliding his fingers up her skirts and down her legs. She moaned, wanting him so badly. She had to get her thoughts together before she realized that she was being led down a hallway to a room.

She kicked the door shut, and they both leapt on the bed as Will began ripping his shirt off. He was working on the top half of Camille's dress, and his tongue was halfway down her throat when she was able to push him off her slightly. "NO!" she cried. "No. No, Will, we can't do this," she said firmly.

He hovered over her for a second, with that bewildered look he was so good at getting on his face. Then he took his hands off her. "You're right," he said, slowly standing up. "Camille, I'm…so sorry," he said in a humiliated tone.

"It's all right, Will," she said, buttoning up her blouse. "It's as much my fault as it is yours." In another moment, she was completely composed again as she hopped off the bed and adjusted her boots.

Will still looked like he was mortified. He quickly got his shirt on, and straightened up his hair. "I-I don't know what came over me. I should have never come with you."

"Oh come now, you needed a night like this. I saw the look on your face, you were having the time of your life out there," Camille said, giving him a little nudge. She looked at him, smiling warmly. "We'll just keep this between us, okay? And no more alcohol. For either of us."

"Agreed. Shall we?" he asked, putting out his arm. She took it. "I must say Camille, you give me quite a bit of confidence when I'm around you."

"Will, you have plenty of confidence. It's just lying dormant for awhile. You can't expect it to stick around all the time," she assured him. "And don't get me wrong, I had a wonderful time."

He nodded. "It would have complicated things."

"Oh, yes. It would have complicated things very much. And you don't need that," she said kindly.

"You're right." He looked at her for the first time in those few minutes. "I don't think I would have regretted it, though."

She sighed. "Neither do I."

He kissed her once more on the lips. "Back to the _Pearl_?"

"Aye."

That night was a long one. She tried to forget it, but all she could think about was lying on the bed, wanting Will to take her dress off. She touched her lips, remembering what they felt like when connected with Will's. She sat on her bed, not sure how exactly to handle the situation. She had come off seeming to have great self control, but inside she was dying for sex.

She couldn't take it anymore. She thought she was going to explode. There was only one way to handle the situation.


	23. Home Now

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 23: Home Now

ONE MONTH LATER: "Land ho! We're comin' up on Port Celebros, Cap'n!" one of the hands cried from the crow's nest.

"Very good, Mr. Jenkins!" Jack called up. "Quartermaine! You and Jenkins change these sails!" he barked.

"Aye, Captain," Camille shouted, saluting before climbing up the riggings.

Jack grinned, looking up at Camille as she climbed. She was extremely agile in situations like these, and he enjoyed watching her perfect body move around. He moved the ship a few points starboard before looking back up. "Mr. Earl! What in the blazes d'you think you're doing, man? It does not take two men to swab the deck! Get up there and help change those sails!"

By the time he was done yelling out orders and the sails were white, he calmed down a little. He didn't know why he was so nervous to go to Port Celebros. Actually, he did, but he didn't want to admit it. He was actually frightened to find out what would happen if his newest and most useful crewmember spontaneously changed her mind like she was so prone to doing.

He was also growing HORRIBLY jealous of Camille and Will's relationship. He watched as the redhead climbed down from the riggings, greeting both him and the baby with kisses on the cheek. He observed their body language, how close they stood to each other, and the expressions on their faces. There was no doubt in his mind that the girl had fallen for William Turner. He sighed, rubbing his temples to ease the steady pain. He'd barely even seen Camille this past month, except to give her orders. Ever since that first night that Camille and Will had gone out together something between them had clicked, and Jack had been drinking more than usual.

"Captain?" Camille's voice broke him from his thoughts. He slowly focused on her. "Captain, will you be coming ashore with us?"

He shook his head. "I don't think so, love."

"Why not? You've been to my house before, what's the difference if you walk through the front door without a disguise?"

He sighed. "Camille, I'm not going and that's final," he said impatiently.

Camille observed him for a moment, biting her lip. "Jack, is something wrong?"

"No love, it's just…it's this hangover," he lied.

"Yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about that. You've been drinking quite a bit more than usual, Jack. You should take better care of yourself, you know," she pointed out.

"Oh, and I suppose you're just the lady to be tellin' me this?" he asked sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up. We can always talk about that at another time. Please Jack, come ashore with us. It would be good to get away from the ship."

"This ship is my life, Camille. And yours too, now," he said sternly.

She crossed her arms. Why was he being so belligerent with her? He was usually just joking around when he spoke like this, but something was getting on his nerves. She decided to just let it drop. "All right then, Captain. I'll check back with you in three days' time."

They were pulling into the docks, and she could see three familiar faces, all smiling and waving to her. She leaned far over the banister. "Annie! Sheila, Peter, hello!" she cried. She straightened. "Excuse me, I've got to go change. I'll see you in a few days Jack!" she called as she hurried down below.


	24. Dying to Hear Good News

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 24: Dying to Hear Good News

"Camille!" Annie exclaimed as the woman ran into her arms. "Oh child, it be so good to see ya!"

She squeezed Annie. "Yes, it's been so long! How have you been? Annie, I've missed you so much!" Camille said, pulling away and looking down at the children. "Peter? Sheila? You've both gotten so big!"

She looked back, as Will and Cadence were coming down the gangplank. Will was trying to coach Ana Maria into coming ashore, as well. She waved her hands. "Ana, come on! Come on, come down here!" She turned her attention back to the children. "Peter, you must be ten years old by now!" she said, pretending to be very impressed. "In no time you'll be taller than I am!" she said as she hugged him.

"It's good to see you again, Miss Camille," Peter said politely, trying to hide the huge grin on his face.

"And is this little Sheila? How old are you now?" Camille said, bending down to the little girl.

Sheila giggled. Her hair was all braided now, and she wore a yellow cotton dress with shoes to match. "I'm six now, Miss Camille."

Camille gasped. "Six? Wow!" she exclaimed, making Sheila beam. "That means that you're old enough to start baking cakes with me. Would you like that?"

Sheila nodded, and then got behind her mother as Will, Cadence and Ana Maria came ashore. Annie looked down. "Don't be frightened, girl. These be the ones that be comin' to live with us," she told her little girl.

"Yes. Annie, I would like you to meet Mr. William Turner and his little girl Cadence. And-"

"Ana Maria!" Annie cried with joy, heading toward the young woman. Ana Maria smiled as Annie hugged her. "Girl, it's been ages! Oh, you've grown so beautiful!" she gushed as Ana Maria got tears in her eyes. Then Annie grabbed Will, who was holding Cadence and pulled them into a great big hug.

Camille laughed until she was pulled in, too. "Annie," she said, crushed between Ana Maria and Peter, "it's so good to be back again."

Annie finally released them all. "Now, come. I been bakin' all day for the Turners, but I had a feelin' that you'd be stayin'. And you two ladies are not gonna lift a finger to help me, is that clear?" she said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at Camille and Ana Maria. "The children and I are in charge, and anyone else will just be gettin' in the way," she said as they made their way to the carriages.

They made it to the house, and Camille gasped when she entered it. She had almost forgotten what living here had been like. And she never remembered it being this big. This was going to be heaven!

"Annie, where is Father?" she asked, remembering her father.

Annie was already making her way to the kitchen, which smelled wonderful. "Oh, he's just in his room gettin' some rest before supper."

Camille stopped. "Rest?"

Annie avoided eye contact with her, getting her apron on. "He's been sick lately, but it's nothin' to be concerned about. Just a chest cold," she said, reassuring Camille. But Camille wasn't reassured.

"Annie, why didn't you tell me he was sick? We could've been here sooner."

Annie waved her hand nonchalantly. "There was no sense in worryin' ya. And I know what you're goin' to say next, the doctor has already called on 'im twice."

"Twice? Annie, are you sure it's not serious?"

"Child, he's fine. And if you go upstairs and change outta them clothes, you will be, too. That goes for the rest o' ya!" she said, causing Ana Maria and Will to look up. "There be a new change o' clothes for you and yer daughter, Mr. Turner. And Ana, ya can just fit into one o' Camille's dresses."

Camille nodded. "That's right. Will, I'll show you to your room," Camille said, making her way upstairs. She went through her wardrobe with Ana Maria until they were able to pick out a dress, which didn't take long. Camille didn't feel like wearing a corset just yet, so ungracefully squeezed into a dress without one.

Annie was calling them already for dinner, so she stopped just outside her father's door and listened closely. She couldn't hear anything, and gently rapped on the door. "Father?" she whispered. No reply.

She pushed the door open, shining a crack of light into the room. She could see that there was already a lamp lit on one side of his bed, and the sickly pale light from it made him look awful. She had a moment of panic when she saw his sleeping face, doubting Annie's confident words.

She crept in, trying to make a little noise to wake him up, but he didn't stir. "Father?" she asked quietly. "Father, it's me. I've returned."

Then he blinked. "Camille?" he asked with a great air of confusion. "Are you-" he coughed. "Are you here? Annie said it would be a few more days."

"The sea was very calm, Father. We had an easy time sailing in," she said sitting on the bed. "Father, it's good to see you again," she said, helping him sit up.

"Camille dear, there's no need to help me, I'm fine," he assured her in a shaky voice. Then he looked up at her, putting his arms out. "Ah, my little girl," he said, hugging her. "How I've missed you."

"I've missed you as well, Father," she said, trying not to let the single tear squeeze out of the corner of her eye.


	25. Norrington's Surprise Visit

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 25: Norrington's Surprise Visit

Dinner was delicious, and despite Annie's protesting Camille and Ana Maria helped clean up while Will and Dorian talked over tea and the children went to play. Everybody was in high spirits that night, and the next couple of days. Peter and Sheila got along very well with Cadence and watched over her carefully whenever the three of them would play. Dorian and Will got along famously, and before long Camille had nearly forgotten her pirate life of the past three years.

That night, Camille had just finished helping Annie in the kitchen. She went out back, breathing deep the air that had just the slightest tint of salty sea breeze in it. She watched the children play for a moment, as Peter flitted about, pretending to be an explorer while Sheila and Cadence played with their dollies. She smiled, listening to them laugh and watching the sun go down.

She put her hands to her mouth. "Children! Time to come inside and get washed up for bed!"

Sheila looked up. "Five more minutes, Miss Camille? Please?" she begged.

Camille laughed. "That's what I said five minutes ago! Now!" she asked. She watched as they whizzed by her, Peter carrying Cadence. She smiled, taking one last glance at the sunset.

Then she sensed another presence. She stiffened, listening. Someone was sneaking up behind her. She began lifting up her skirts, reaching for the dagger that she always kept underneath her dress at her thighs. But before she could get it, two strong arms reached around her and held her tight.

She opened her mouth and began to scream, but it was muffled as one of the hands enclosed around her mouth. "Darling, it's me," she heard in her ear and immediately stopped struggling, turning around.

"My God Jack, you practically scared the life out of me!" she scolded. "All you have to do is knock on the door and I'll let you in," she insisted.

But he put his finger to her lips. "May we talk inside?"

She nodded, pulling him just inside and locking the doors. She narrowed her eyes, observing the backyard and gardens. Sure enough, she saw bits of red coming through them. She turned to Jack. "Again?"

"They saw the _Pearl_ weigh anchor, I suppose," Jack said calmly. "You're as good as gold here, Camille, I'm not."

"You were stupid enough to sail right into the main port and you want me to save your arse?" she whispered fiercely. "Jack, you have to get out of this house right now, you are endangering the children," she warned him. But it was too late. There was a knock on the door.

"That would be Norrington," Jack informed her. "And might I add, once again, that you have underestimated me," he said indignantly.

She rolled her eyes. "Front closet," she said, hurrying to answer the door just as Jack hid.

Just as he had predicted, there stood Norrington in his Commodore's outfit. He looked a bit taken aback at seeing her standing there, but quickly regained his composure.

"Good evening, Miss Quartermaine. Forgive me, I was under the impression that you no longer resided here in Port Celebros."

"That's quite all right, Commodore. Do come in," she said, disguising her Irish accent. "Shall I summon my father?"

The Commodore put his hands behind his back, looking around suspiciously. "Well I was planning on speaking with him, but perhaps you may be of assistance."

"Of course, Commodore. Anything I can do," she said.

Norrington cleared his throat. "Miss Quartermaine, the pirate ship _The Black Pearl_ has just weighed anchor in Celebros' main port."

She feigned surprise. "Has it really?"

The Commodore nodded. "Yes. You were the last person seen with Jack Sparrow, so I've come to ask about any information you may have regarding this pirate. Please keep in mind that any information withheld may be a warrant for your arrest."

"Commodore, please. I've not seen Captain Sparrow in quite some time," she pleaded.

He lifted his eyebrow. "You were seen boarding _The Black Pearl_ with him."

"Yes, but I escaped shortly after that," she said, almost hesitating.

"Did you?"

"Yes, I did. And I would like to say that man has paid for his filthy deeds, but I'm afraid I don't know what's become of him."

Norrington looked at her, searching her face for any sign that she was lying. She had long perfected this technique, and Jack had even tested her for it. The woman could lie about absolutely anything if she needed to.

She took a breath. "Commodore Norrington, has he been spotted here in Port Celebros?" she asked in a low voice, looking as frightened as she could.

Believing the look of terror in her eyes, Norrington shook his head. "No, Miss Quartermaine. And I assure you, a full search is being conducted."

Camille bit her lip. "Good. That man and his entire black-sailed ship should hang for the heinous crimes they have-"

"The sails are not black."

"I beg your pardon, Commodore?"

"They're white."

"What?" she paused for a minute. "White sails? And no Captain Sparrow? That's very odd Commodore, are you sure that Captain Sparrow is even here?"

"Miss Quartermaine, there is no doubt that Mr. Sparrow is with that ship."

"Captain," she corrected under her breath.

"What was that, Miss Quartermaine?"

She cleared her throat. "Uhm, what I meant to say was, _Captain_ Sparrow has always been a fairly clever-well I shouldn't say clever, but stealthy pirate. It doesn't seem to make sense that he would sail his ship into the main port, where he and his entire crew could easily be arrested," she pointed out. She spotted Ana Maria at the top of the stairs. Ana Maria just nodded, and was out of sight.

"James? James, is that you?" Dorian's voice suddenly called. He appeared upstairs and began descending the staircase.

"Good evening, Dorian. It's quite a pleasure to see you in good health again," Norrington said.


	26. My Crewmembers

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 26: My Crewmembers

Camille looked at her father. "Father, Commodore Norrington was telling me that the Black Pearl has been sighted near the main docks, but with white sails. Isn't that _odd_?" she said, hoping her father would get the hint.

Dorian looked at his daughter for a moment. "White sails, did you say? Well, that does sound rather out of the ordinary. And at the main docks, too? How obvious!"

"Yes, it does seem a bit out of place," Norrington agreed. "Nevertheless, we shall conduct a full search of Port Celebros," he said, finally satisfied that Camille held no useful information. "If you hear anything about him, please do not hesitate to contact me. There is a reward for 800 pounds on his head."

"Well James, it certainly was nice to see you. We shall have to do tea some time," Dorian said, smiling and shaking his friend's hand.

"Yes, we shall," Norrington said. "Good evening, Dorian. Miss Quartermaine," he said, tilting his hat.

"Goodnight, Commodore," Camille said pleasantly before shutting the door. She leaned back on it and breathed an enormous sigh of relief. Dorian looked at her disapprovingly.

"I refuse to keep defending your shenanigans like this. You are a grown woman, Camille. You can't possibly think that you are going to remain on that ship with those pigheaded men."

"Pigheaded men? Father, I'll have you know that I have not been less than ladylike with ANY of my crewmembers!" Camille argued.

"_Your_ crewmembers? Camille, you are my daughter, and I will not lose you again to those people! You are staying here, and that's final," he said before going into a coughing fit.

Her blood was still boiling about what had just been said, but she helped him find a seat on the couch until it stopped. "Father, maybe you should go upstairs and get some sleep. It just doesn't seem to me like your cold is getting any better."

"Nonsense, Camille. The doctor said I would have a dry cough like this for a few weeks. I'm fine," he said, acting like the previous argument had never taken place.

"Well, I still think you should get some sleep. Now go on upstairs. I'll turn down the lights," Camille said, making sure that her father was out of sight before opening the closet door.

Jack was leaning against the wall inside, cleaning his nails. He looked up. "Well done, love. I must say, you've become quite the actress lately."

"I learned from the best."

He stepped out of the closet, looking around in amazement. "I don't remember your house being this big," he said, closing the door.

"To be honest, neither did I when I walked in. But that is beside the point. Jack, you've got to lay low. Ana Maria went to warn the others, I'm sure they'll know what to do."

But Jack shook his head. "Unlikely." He started toward the door, but Camille grabbed onto his arm.

"No, Jack! They're looking for you; they'll catch you if you go out there. Stay here and lay low for a bit."

He looked at her. "Camille, what do I have to do to get it through your head that I have no interest in staying here?"

"It doesn't matter if you're not interested in staying here. I'm not going to let them catch you. Please, Jack. Stay. You don't have to say a word to my father, I promise you," she said, trying to guess the reason that Jack didn't want to stay.

He got that look on his face; that look that he always got when someone challenged his authority. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her. He tried to be angry with her, he really did. He did not want to have to set himself up, only to say goodbye to this woman forever. He was still having trouble figuring out what she meant to him. But she was so sincere, and looked so stunning in that dress that he couldn't just walk away. He gave in. "All right, all right. I'll stay. For one day."

She smiled. "One day is not good enough, I'm afraid."

"Bloody hell, woman. Two days. Two days, that is final," he said sternly.

"I'll show you to your room. And Annie will wash your clothes, and if you ever get tired of the children Ana Maria or I will watch them, and-"

Jack put his finger up to her lips again. "You're really glad to be home again, aren't you?" he asked sincerely.

She nodded. "I never thought I would miss this, but I guess I was wrong," she admitted. "Come on, this way," she said as she began ascending the staircase.


	27. Camille and Will

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 27: Camille and Will

Will had woken up to Cadence's cry. He stumbled through the darkness, finally finding his way to the child. She was standing up, holding her arms out. "Daddy!" she cried.

"Yes darling, Daddy's here," he said soothingly, picking her up. "What's the matter?"

She rubbed her eyes. "Muffin?" she asked hopefully.

Will rolled his eyes. "I told you to eat your supper last night, young lady."

Cadence looked at him for a minute, then repeated herself. "Muffin?"

All hope of getting any more sleep was gone, so he gave in. "All right," he said, setting her down. "But you have to walk to the kitchen."

The little girl scrambled towards the door, picking up her little feet. "Muffin!" she squealed.

Will laughed, keeping close behind his little one. He helped her get down all of the steps, and set her on the counter as he got her food. He smiled as she looked up at him with crumbs all over her face. "Did you enjoy that, Cadence?" he asked.

She nodded, then pointed. "Camy!"

"No dearest, we are not going to wake Camille. It's much too early."

"No, Daddy." She pointed again. "Camy."

Will looked, and sure enough Camille was sitting outside, in a simple dress on the stone wall at the end of the backyard before the garden. He wiped the crumbs from Cadence's face and wondered for a moment whether Camille wanted company. If so, she probably would have asked for some. Regardless, he was longing to talk to her about their relationship.

Taking Cadence in his arms, he quietly slipped out the back door and towards the redhead. She heard them approaching and glanced back, but continued to keep her gaze on the sunrise.

"Do you always wake up this early, Camille?" Will asked when he got close enough. Cadence reached out her arms and Camille took her.

"When all you've got is a horizon to stare at all day, the sun becomes significant. Did you forget that, William?" she asked playfully.

He smiled, watching Cadence play Patty Cake on Camille's lap. "Yes, ever since becoming a parent."

"You know, I'm really not going to feel right without a child balanced on one of my hips. I do wish she could come with me," she said, taking Cadence's hands in her own.

Will nodded. "Yes, but I'm afraid she's the key to my sanity," he said, taking a seat next to them.

"How are you doing, by the way? You look much better. Are you doing all right mentally?" Camille asked with concern.

He nodded. "There are still times where it gets impossible, but things are becoming much easier."

Camille smiled. "Good, I'm glad to hear it. And being with Annie and her children will make it so much easier for you to raise Cadence. She'll have playmates and everything."

"Camille, thank you so much," Will said sincerely. "You have been a god sent to us."

She grinned. "Now Will, you have to remember to write as often as possible. I want to know how everyone is doing, and I don't want any details left out."

He laughed. "I can't believe you're not going to stay in Port Celebros with your father. The estate is beautiful, your father is rich…you could not have to lift a finger for the rest of your life and live better than most others."

"Yes, but I've lived here for years. And before I met Jack my father's wealth was a curse. I have had everything handed to me on a silver, or rather, golden platter, and I believe it's high time I pass the gift on."

He looked at her in fascination, shaking his head. "You're one of a kind, Camille."

She laughed. "Yes I know that, thank you." Cadence began crying all of a sudden. "Oh darling, what's wrong?" Camille asked in a worried tone.

"She's been doing that lately. I think more of her teeth are coming in," Will pointed out.


	28. The Power Shift

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 28: The Power Shift

Jack had woken up shortly after Camille. He was still exploring most of the nooks and crannies of the extravagant mansion, and the wheels in his head were constantly turning with ideas on how to smuggle most of the furniture to the ship.

As he passed the kitchen, something caught his eye. He stopped, backtracked, and looked out the window to the garden. Squinting his eyes, he could see Camille's redhead above the tall grasses and flowers. He pulled out his spyglass and watched. She was with Will, of course. He shook his head, watching the two talk before he once again began to snoop around for things.

Several minutes later, he was in the dining room smuggling the good china when Camille burst in, carrying a crying baby and an open bottle of milk. He started, quickly closing the cabinet as she was still focused on Cadence.

"Jack, could you open that liquor cabinet below you…there, right by your left leg, and find a bottle of whiskey?" she asked, putting the bottle on the table. "Shh Cadence, it's all right. And put those dishes back," she said to Jack.

"Dammit," he mumbled, reluctantly putting the china back in the cabinet. He found the half empty bottle. "Don't you think it's a bit early to start drinking, Camille?"

"It's not for me, it's for Cadence. She's teething. Could you put some in her bottle for me?"

He gave her an odd look, uncorking the bottle. "Isn't she a bit young?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "A few drops, Jack. It'll ease the pain."

Jack obeyed, and Camille took the bottle. "Thank you," she said, putting it to Cadence's mouth. Jack was still holding the whiskey bottle and gave it a sniff, letting the temptation take over him.

But Camille looked at him sharply. "The last thing you need to do in this house is drink," she said firmly. "And don't think I didn't notice that last plate. Put it back."

Jack huffed, stooping to put the whiskey back. "Christ, woman. You've got bloody eyes in the back of your head."

Camille smiled and winked, giving Jack a slight twinge in his stomach and causing him to worry quite a bit. Was he coming down with something?

Camille and Cadence exited the dining room and went back into the kitchen. Will and Dorian were sitting at the table. Dorian smiled upon seeing his daughter. "Good morning, ladies," he said.

"Morning, Father," Camille said pleasantly. Cadence only babbled a couple of syllables, but smiled and laughed.

Jack came into the kitchen next, and the look on Dorian's face changed immediately. He stood up, causing the chair to scrape across the floor. He and Jack glared at each other for a moment, and Will and Camille exchanged worried glances.

Dorian cleared his throat. "I wasn't aware that _he_ was in my house," he said with his mouth in a straight line. "If I would have known that I would have never defended you so strongly last night, Camille."

She didn't hesitate. "Father, Jack needs to lay low for a bit. I told him that he was free to stay here." But she caught the look in her father's eye, and knew that this would not last. He was very protective of her, and would most likely throw Jack out of the house or come close to it unless she argued tirelessly with him. And with him still recovering arguing was the last thing she wanted to do.

Dorian looked at Will, then back at Camille. "Would the three of you excuse us?" he said, meaning himself and Jack.

Camille swallowed. Her father was extremely calm, and that made her nervous. If he was yelling, she could tell exactly how upset he was. But this…this just made it difficult to know what to expect. She carried Cadence over and set her on her feet so that she could walk with Will. She wanted to tell her father to be reasonable, but something told her to walk out of the room as quickly as possible.


	29. Realizing His Place

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 29: Realizing His Place

Dorian crossed the room, his arms crossed over his chest, moving at a casual pace. He took a deep breath. "Now, Mr. Sparrow-or, should I say Mr. Bourderlaire, which is it?"

Jack cringed hearing his false identity being recognized. "It's Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please sir."

Dorian chuckled. "You are no captain. I've seen the way you look at her, Sparrow." He got close to Jack's face. "And do not make the mistake of thinking that a woman of her status could ever possibly end up with a…a…villainous outlaw like you. She's simply going through a phase. She's confused, and as soon as she learns the rules of society she won't ever remember you. Mr. Turner is by far better suited for my daughter."

Jack sighed inwardly. "Yes, I suppose he is," he said smoothly, even though Dorian's words had cut him pretty deeply. And the worst part was that it was the truth. Like it or not, he was a lowly pirate. Camille would have never given up anything if she hadn't met him. And perhaps that was the way it had to be.

But then Dorian began coughing. Jack looked at him, wondering if he should do something. His eyes grew wide as blood began coming out of Dorian's mouth. But Dorian was quick to wipe it away with a handkerchief, leaving a drop or two on the corners of his mouth.

He caught the look in Jack's eyes. "No, she does not know," he answered. "And you're not going to tell her."

"I see. Will you break the news to her that you're dying, then?" Jack asked nonchalantly.

Dorian glared at him. "Camille doesn't need to concern herself with this. As far as she knows I'm regaining my health."

Jack narrowed his eyes. "And I thought that I was a master of deception," he said sharply.

"You stay away from my daughter, Sparrow. She's too good for you, and she will always be out of your league. Now, get out of my house," Dorian said, pulling a chair out and taking a seat. His last coughing fit had really taken a lot out of him.

Jack turned on his heel and went back through the dining room and around to the main hallway. He balled his hands into fists until they were white. That bastard. How could he lie to Camille like that? But now the pressure was on Jack. Should he tell her, or should he keep it to himself to ease Camille's fears?

He flung the front doors open and stepped outside into the bright sunlight, not caring who saw him. It was still fairly early, and there was no one around. The sea was calm, the town was quiet, and except for inside his own mind the scene was rather peaceful. But Jack had realized it; if he kept involving Camille, she would be endangered for the rest of her life. So it was best for him to do what he did: leave without saying goodbye. It was the easiest way to let her unravel from this part of his life.

"Jack?"

Jack gritted his teeth, and slowly turned around. Camille was standing in the doorway, putting her hair up. "Yes?"

"Has it been two days already?" she asked, making her way down the path to where he stood.

He shook his head. "No, but I'm afraid I've got some business to attend to on the _Pearl_," he lied.

She didn't fall for it. "Whatever my father told you…well, he's only trying to protect me, please realize that."

"I do know that, Camille."

"And I know he's dying," she said in a lower voice.

This surprised Jack very much. "Y-you do?"

She nodded. "Yes, of course I do. It's obvious that he's becoming weaker. And there are blood stains on his handkerchiefs, I've seen them."

"Clever girl."

She nodded. "Yes, it's horribly sad. I'm terrified of losing him, Jack. The man and I have never agreed on a single thing since my mother died, but he's still my father."

"It'll be all right, love. Besides, you have dear William now."

She looked at him oddly. "Well…yes…I suppose so," she said slowly. "So you've been kicked out, eh?"

Jack sighed and nodded. "Aye, lass."

"Well, then. This must be goodbye," she said, half smiling. "When will I see you again, Captain?"

"I don't know, love. It could be a very long time," he said seriously, but Camille got the impression that he was joking. There was a very grave misunderstanding at this point. Jack assumed that Camille meant to stay in Port Celebros, while Camille was planning on returning to the _Pearl_. "Could you tell Ana Maria that we are leaving whenever she's ready?"

Camille nodded. "Yes, I'll do that."

"Thank you, darling. It's been a pleasure," he said, taking her hand and kissing it.

"What's with the formalities? Are you planning on getting yourself arrested? It's not as if we'll never see each other again," she laughed.

"You sound quite certain of that."

"Jack, are you all right? You're acting as if this is really goodbye. You…you are going to be on the ship when I return, aren't you?"

Jack was dumbfounded. "You're returning to my ship?"

"Yes, did you think I was going to stay here with Will and Annie?" she said skeptically. Then her eyes widened. "Jack," she said, nodding. He turned around, and saw a naval officer and five men scattered below the hillside near the docks.

She pulled on his arm. "Inside, quickly!"

He pulled back. "No, I'll endanger you and everyone else. The ship's my only chance," he explained.

But she pulled even harder. "NO!" she protested. "If Norrington catches one glimpse of you you'll hang, and I'll be damned if I lose two significant men in my life at the same time," she said fast as she dragged him back inside and shut the door. "My father's threats will have to wait to be carried out," she said with finality.

"Camille, it really isn't necessary to do this for-"

"Why not?" she said, cutting him off. "Wouldn't you do the same for me?" she nearly demanded, hoping he would say yes.

"Of course I would!" he insisted.

"Then please stop arguing with me, I'm growing quite tired of it."

"Jack?" Will asked, appearing in the front hall. "Did Mr. Quartermaine actually agree to let you stay?" he said incredulously.

"Not exactly," Jack said lightly.

"He is staying here, and I don't care how many of my father's teeth I have to pull to make it perfectly clear," Camille stated, crossing her arms over her chest.

Will shook his head, smiling. "I see you're not arguing with her this time," he said to Jack.

Jack sighed. "No, mate. I think I've given up on that completely." In his mind, he was too preoccupied with going through the previous conversation. TWO significant men in her life? (The other being her father, he assumed.) And she was returning to the ship? Perhaps she and Will were simply in a disagreement.

"Jack!" Ana Maria exclaimed. She was at the top of the staircase in a pretty blue dress with her hair all done up, and she hardly looked the same. She picked up her skirts and gracefully descended as everyone watched, a little amazed at how perfectly she fit in. "I told Gibbs what was happening, and they say they got it under control. The Pearl already has the white sails, and they're simply goin' to disguise themselves as a merchant trading vessel. There's really no evidence to contradict that, and no one's seen you in days, anyhow, so they can't screw up their alibis."

"Brilliant," Camille said, smiling. "Only now comes the hard part."

"What, entertaining Jack without booze or whores?" Will quipped.

"Watch it, whelp," Jack snapped, whirling around to face him. "You and I both know that the world would be a better place with more areas like Tortuga."

Will rolled his eyes. "Yes, how foolish of me to forget."

"I was going to say that, actually," Camille said, trying to keep a straight face but bursting with laughter at Jack's expression as they headed into the kitchen. "I'm only joking, you know. Honestly, I've never seen you so serious. Is the King's Navy making you a bit on edge this time?" she questioned him.


	30. Goodnight, Sheila

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 30: Goodnight, Sheila

Camille was lucky enough to get through the first day without confronting her father about the issue, but Dorian was very persistent. By the next evening, he sought out his daughter in the library with Cadence as she and Will read her a bedtime story together.

The three looked marvelous together, sitting cozy by the fireplace and murmuring to the baby, whose eyelids were becoming heavier by the moment. He almost didn't want to interrupt the picture perfect scene. Almost.

"Camille darling, could I have a word with you?" he whispered softly, causing their heads to turn.

She nodded. "Yes. Excuse me, Will. Goodnight, love," she said, kissing Cadence on the forehead before getting up and exiting the library with her father. "Yes, Father?" she said innocently, but he looked at her reproachfully.

"You know what this is about, Camille."

She sighed. Her father looked extremely tired and worn out, and she felt a sharp pang of guilt run through her. He didn't have long, and the last thing he needed was to upset himself over Jack's presence. She chewed on her lower lip. "I do know. And I may have an idea. Father, I want you to promise me that you'll lie down and get some rest if I get rid of Jack."

"My dear, nothing has ever sounded sweeter to my ears," he said with a note of relief to his voice.

She nodded. "Very well, then. I know just what to do."

It took a little convincing, surprisingly. Sheila and Peter had grown very attached to the pirate after he revealed his real identity to them, admitting that he had been the very same man who had called himself Vincent Bourderlaire. Jack understood everything, but the children didn't take to the idea too kindly.

"But why, Miss Camille? Captain Jack hasn't robbed anybody or killed anybody, has he?" Sheila asked.

Camille took a seat, beckoning to the little girl to sit on her lap as Jack explained it to Peter, who understood a little more. "Sheila, what you have to understand is that my father isn't comfortable around Jack."

"But why not? I like him. Don't you like him?"

"Of course I do, I like him very much. But different people have different opinions, and my father's opinion of Jack isn't a very good one."

"Not a good one? But who told him that Jack was bad?"  
"The entire British government, for one," Jack interrupted.

"The government doesn't like you?" Sheila asked.

Jack walked over to where the girls sat and squatted down so that he could look up at the little girl. "Well Sheila, when you're a pirate like I am, a lot of people don't like you."

"But why not? Are they stupid?"

Jack nodded. "Oh, yes. They're very stupid."

"Jack…" Camille warned.

He grinned, showing his golden teeth. Camille thought of a different way of putting this whole scenario. "Jack and my father don't agree on many things. In fact, they may not agree on anything at all," she admitted.

"Are they in a tiff?" Sheila asked.

"Yes," Camille and Jack said at the same time. "A very large one," Jack added.

"They why don't you apologize to Master Quartermaine?" Sheila asked simply.

Camille bit her lip, thinking of another explanation. "Sometimes when adults argue, it takes much more than an apology to straighten things out. It can also be a very trying process, darling. So Jack going away is going to take some of the burden off my father. It'll make it easier for him to try to get better."

Sheila looked at the two of them for a minute, and then her eyes widened. "Oh! I understand now! So Master Quartermaine won't be so upset and tired anymore!"

Camille nodded. "Yes, exactly. Now I think it's getting close to your bedtime, young lady."

Sheila nodded and hopped off Camille's lap, looking up at Jack who had stood up recently. "Goodnight, Captain Sparrow."

He took her little hand in his and kissed it. "Goodnight, Miss Sheila. Until we meet again."

"Goodnight, Miss Camille."

"Goodnight, dear," Camille said.


	31. Breaking Character

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And yes, I am going to change the character of Jack just a little in this one. Sorry! I think you'll still enjoy it, though.

Chapter 31: Breaking Character

Until further notice, Jack was going to stay at an inn on the very outskirts of Port Celebros. It wasn't a fancy inn, which relieved him very much. He was still very confused about what to do, and spent most of his time drinking and pondering over everything that had taken place the past few years.

It had been almost four days, and he hadn't gotten any word from any member of the Quartermaine household or his crew. Tonight he was hearing some very familiar music in the tavern part of the inn. It reminded him of the guitar tunes that Camille would play on the ship. They had the same fast pace to them.

He had been wandering about that entire day, shocking many of the bartenders and prostitutes by ignoring them completely. Jack felt some sort of emptiness welling up inside him, and for once it wasn't hunger. He had no idea what it was, and certainly wasn't about to see any crazy doctor about his unusual condition.

So he sat, alone in his designated corner with his boots on the table and his three cornered hat tilted over his face somewhat. The noise all blended together as the captain once again proceeded to drift off into his thoughts. They were broken up by the sound of a mug being placed on his table. He lifted his hat, with the intention of reprimanding whoever had disturbed him.

But when he looked up, he was greeted by the loveliest pair of green eyes he knew. And that's when he finally figured out what the overwhelming solitude was in his soul. And forgetting all his cool and debonair lack of enthusiasm, a warm smile spread across his face. "Hello, Camille."

"Evenin', Jack," she said casually as she set another mug down on the table and took a seat across from him. "Patrick told me you haven't been drinking lately, so I thought I'd bring you some rum to snap you out of it. Are you sure you're all right? You've been acting awfully strange lately."

He glanced at the rum, and then looked back at the beautiful woman. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be looking after dear father?"

"He seems to be getting most of his strength back, and I'm quite relieved," she said. "And we haven't heard from you in days, so I thought I'd drop by and see how you're doing."

"Great God, could that be little Quartermaine!" a slightly intoxicated voice shouted behind her. She turned around, seeing two middle-age men. One had a mug and one had a violin.

"Hello, Henry. Good evening, Thomas," she said, smiling.

"Camille, it seems like it's been centuries! Come have a song with us," the man named Thomas beckoned.

"In a moment, can't you see that I'm with someone?" she said, waving them off. "I'll be along, I promise. One song."

"One song, we're holdin' ye to it!" Henry shouted as they made their way back across the bar.

Jack lifted one of his eyebrows. "Adoring public?"

Camille chuckled. "I used to come to this inn frequently to…well, get away."

"Ah, so this sneaking off with strange men and music is a habit of yours, eh?" Jack said playfully.

She laughed. "You could say that. We used to call this place Little Ireland, because many of the Irish sailors would and still do come here. And most of them don't know who my father is, which is a lot of fun because I get to pretend for awhile."

Jack was quite intent on listening to this story, and took small sips from his mug as he gave all of his attention to her reminiscing, putting in a comment here or there. A few minutes later, the two of them could hear her name being called.

She sighed, then laughed as she heard the song they began playing. "Do you recognize this one, Jack? It's always been one of my favorites," she said, getting up. "Do you dance?"

He looked up at her, again lifting one of his eyebrows. He had to maintain some sort of reputation, even though he was dying to spend more time with her this evening. "Are you daft, Camille? Captain Jack Sparrow does not dance."

"That's too bad, really. Well I can't promise I'll be back; I sort of get carried away once I start," she said as she made her way toward the instruments. And she did get carried away, forgetting the time and everything. She danced with others in that inn for several songs, almost forgetting that Jack was sitting in the corner.

She took a break, sitting at the bar and resting her feet. She looked in the corner where the lonely captain had been sitting, but he was gone. Getting her second wind, she got up again and began dancing. She felt like she could go on for hours, even though there were only a few songs left and it was getting late.

All of a sudden she saw Jack standing in the crowd among the few people who were not dancing. Without thinking, she grabbed the captain and pulled him out into the middle of the floor where they were both surrounded by people.

He looked at her, like he was going to ask her what the hell she thought she was doing, but she placed his hands on her. "It's easy," she shouted over the music. "Just try not to step on my feet," she said as they began moving. And as much as Jack hated to admit it, he turned out to be a fast learner and a very talented dancer.

Camille was enjoying this very much. She liked this so much more than she did dancing with Will, because she knew that there was no guilt about flirting shamelessly with Jack Sparrow. She could see that he was having a wonderful time, and before they knew it the last song was over.

They stood there, out of breath among the crowded tavern. Jack was still holding her, and a group of others brushed past them, causing them to draw a little nearer to each other. Jack didn't think he could ever remember a time where he wanted an unobtainable woman so badly. And then she went and made it so much worse.

She leaned in closer, until she was inches away from his face. "Just do it, Jack," she urged. So he did. And it was AMAZING! It was nothing like the gentle kiss she'd given him the last time in Port Celebros, or even the one on the _Pearl_. He held her firmly, not wanting to let her go and fighting the temptation to explore her body in public.

She moaned slightly, grabbing at his dreadlocks. She had been wanting this for what seemed like ages now, and she bit his lip ever so gently. He reached up and caressed her chin, moving the loose hair away from her face. He slid his tongue slowly between her lips, wondering if he would be slapped for this or not. She replied only by pulling on his hair, while her other hand clasped his side.

"Camille!"


	32. That Man Sincerely Loves You

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 32: That Man Sincerely Loves You

She pulled back, astonished to hear a woman's voice calling her so urgently. "Ana?" she asked, still holding Jack but turning her head.

Ana Maria was standing right next to them. Jack looked a bit more than peeved about the interruption, but Ana Maria made no attempt to apologize. "Camille, it's your father. We've already called the doctor, but I don't think he's going to make it till morning."

Camille released Jack, and he did the same, letting the anger drain from his face. He knew how important this was for her. He was about to ask her whether he should stay or not, but she looked at him. "This is something I've got to do alone. I'll send for you as soon as I can, I promise," she said before scurrying out of the inn behind Ana Maria.

"What's wrong with him, I thought for sure he was recovering!" Camille demanded as the two women climbed into the coach that Ana Maria had taken.

"It seemed like he was. But just a few hours ago he began coughing and vomiting up blood again, and a lot of it. Annie and I sat up with him, and we called on the doctor but he can't possibly make it into the Port before morning," Ana Maria explained.

"And he's really doing that badly?" Camille said, still not realizing the situation.

Ana nodded. "He's lost so much blood, but we're still praying for him. The children and Will haven't woken up yet, and we thought it would be best if he spent the rest of the night with you."

Camille nodded. It seemed like hours until the coach pulled up to her front gate. She got out, almost tripping down the steps. She hurried up the path and into her house, up the steps and into her father's room, slowing down so as not to startle him.

She knocked gently on the doorframe. Annie was sitting up by the bed, and she got up, her arms open wide. "Oh, child," she said softly, embracing Camille.

"How's he doing, Annie?" she asked, looking down at her father. His eyes were closed and he looked very peaceful, but she could see the large shadows under his eyes as well.

Annie just shook her head. "He's gone from bad to worse. I've tried hot water bottle after hot water bottle, but nothin' is relievin' the pressure he feels in his chest," she said, wiping away a tear.

"You've done your best, Annie. Please, you and Ana Maria, try and get some rest before the doctor arrives," Camille said softly, patting Annie on the back. As she left the room, Camille approached her father and sat on the edge of the bed, pushing his tousled hair away from his sweaty forehead.

Dorian blinked. "C-camille?" he said, forcing a weak smile to come across his bloodstained lips. "I…thought I heard…your voice," he said, breathing heavily.

"Shh, it's all right Father. How're you feeling?" she asked, trying to keep her tone optimistic.

"Oh, I'm fine," he said, trying to keep his head up. He coughed a little at the end of the sentence.

"Is your chest feeling any better? Ana Maria told me it's been hurting and causing you a great deal of pain."

"Now, don't you worry about me, darling. The doctor will be here soon, and I'll be all right. I just need some-" he finished by hacking, going into another coughing fit. He coughed so hard that he was sitting up straight by the time he was through, with Camille supporting most of his weight. He just looked at her sadly. "I've never felt so…so useless, Camille. You don't need this; you don't need to lose another parent…" he said, getting tears in his eyes.

"Oh hush Father, don't speak like that," she said, helping him lay back down. "You don't need to worry about me, I've got the most wonderful people in the entire world to help me through this. Now I want you to rest, is that clear?"

He took a deep, labored breath. "Camille…"

"Yes, Father?" she said, leaning closer.

"I want you to know…" he began, his words starting to slur together. "…that your pirate friend and I have much more in common…than you might think," he wheezed.

"You mean Jack?"

Dorian nodded. "Yes, Jack. Camille, it's no…secret that I favor Mr. Turner over the rest," he coughed, "…but in all my years I've never…(wheeze) seen anyone care for you the way Captain Sparrow does."

"What?" she said, dumbfounded by her father's dying words. "You think that Jack cares for me?"

"Darling, he's a cold-hearted pirate and I've never feared for you more than when…(cough)…he kidnapped you. But…but I've seen the way he's been looking at you…lately. Something in him has changed," he trailed off coughing, and it took quite a bit of time for him to calm down.

Camille was quite confused by now with all this talk of Jack from her father. She was exhausted, and the rum was starting to get to her head. But she forced herself to focus. "Father, what are you trying to tell me?"

"I am telling you that that man loves you, my dear, he genuinely…sincerely…loves you. And I've never been happier for you…" he said, letting his eyes close and laying his head back.

Her eyes widened. "Father?" she said, shaking him gently. "Father, no, please!" she begged. She laid her head down on his chest, letting herself sob for a few short moments, even though she really didn't feel anything yet. It was too soon, and the realization would hit her in a few days. And right then, her father's words about Jack meant absolutely nothing as she exited the room and descended the staircase.


	33. A Short Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 33: A Short Chapter

For a few days after that Camille couldn't find it in herself to be sad. She and Annie were busy planning Dorian's funeral and making all of the arrangements. Will and Ana Maria helped as much as they could, but it was mostly up to Camille to arrange everything.

It was the night before the funeral, and Camille sat up in bed. She didn't want to read, but she was wide awake. She longed to talk to someone, and half hoped for the legendary pirate to climb into her window again. It was three in the morning, and she was still pacing about, being restless. She could feel the death of her father welling up inside her, and all of the emptiness and gloom was just about to let itself out. But Ana Maria already knew all of it. And poor Annie, she was simply exhausted during this process. And Will was out of the question, losing Elizabeth not more than a few months ago. He certainly couldn't be troubled with this.

So who did that leave? Why, Jack, of course! But then she stopped. She already acted foolish enough around him as it was. He loathed her father, though he was careful not to say anything negative about Dorian in her presence. How could she have the nerve to go and cry to Jack about her father, after all of the trouble he'd put Jack through? After all, Dorian was the reason Jack was sitting (or sleeping with a woman) in an inn right now and not living cozily in the mansion with the rest of them.

She sighed, remembering her father's words. _"That man loves you, my dear. He genuinely, sincerely loves you."_

She grabbed her rogue outfit and changed into it quickly, turning down all of the lamps and blowing out the candles. She carefully exited her balcony, shutting the windows behind her before climbing down to the ground. It was raining lightly out, but by the time she got into town it was pouring.

She had never felt so scared in her life, walking these streets of her home. She was armed with her sword, her pistol, and a knife she kept concealed on her leg, and she looked warily down all the alleys. She only ran into a couple of men, and they eyed her dangerously. But she just narrowed her eyes back at them, making like she was going to grab for her sword at any moment.

By the time she got to the inn, she was drenched and shivering. And it reflected her mood very much. She felt so lonely and lost, she began to cry softly. Making her way inside, she passed the main room quietly. No one was in it, and she passed the tavern which was emptying out.

Trying to wipe the tears and rain from her face, she stood outside the door which she knew to be Jack's room. She bit her lip, trying to keep from sobbing out loud. What if he was with someone? What if he was just asleep? She turned around. What a stupid idea. Of course he would be angry at her for waking him up in the middle of the night to talk about a man he hated.

She couldn't take it anymore. She turned back around and stood right in front of his door. She wanted to listen, but that would be like spying, and didn't feel right. So she knocked three times, being barely audible. She sniffled some more as she wiped away more tears, and crossed her arms over her chest as she tried to maintain some of her body heat.


	34. A Side of the Captain Rarely Seen

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 34: A Side of the Captain Rarely Seen

Jack had not gone to bed in a good mood. In fact, he had not really gone to bed at all. He was laying, wide awake. He had been lying there for hours, trying to fall asleep. Three days ago he had gotten a letter that Camille's father had died, and had been meeting with Ana Maria in secret. And he was not only worried about Camille, but also with whether she would now decide to stay in Port Celebros or not. He reprimanded himself at first for thinking that, and also for kissing her the other night when he shouldn't have.

Then he began second guessing himself. What did he possibly have to feel guilty about? Dorian was a heartless, lying bastard. And Jack, well he had simply kissed a lovely woman. There was no shame to it. It wasn't like she had refused, or even mentioned her relationship with William to him. But from what Ana Maria told him, all his suspicions about the two of them were right.

Then he froze. Was there someone at his door? He sat up, listening for a moment. All was silent, but he thought he saw a small shadow underneath his door. And he could distinctly hear someone sniffling. He got up, his bare feet hitting the ground stealthily. (he was shirtless, by the by).

Ready to get his sword if needed, he reached forward and opened the door. There she was, the very woman he could not get his mind off, shivering and sniffling right on the other side of his door. She looked horribly distraught, and although she was soaked he could tell by the little ringlets around her eyes that she had been crying. "Camille!" he exclaimed. "What's the matter?"

She avoided his eyes, stepping inside as he shut the door behind her. "I'm so sorry Jack, I didn't mean to wake you. I-I shouldn't have come," she stuttered.

"Nonsense love, I was having trouble sleeping anyhow," he said, trying to get her to look at him. But she wouldn't look at his face. He was very concerned now, and took one of the blankets off his bed and wrapped it around her. When he did this, he had his arms around her and she broke down and began crying.

He didn't know what exactly to do. No one had ever actually cried in his arms like this before, and he grimaced at the tear running down his chest and stomach, tickling his bronzed skin. He didn't ask why she was crying, but held her even tighter as she began shuddering. "Sh, it's all right, Camille," he said soothingly.

"Jack, I don't know what to do!" she cried. Then she sobbed again, pushing herself away from him and wiping her eyes. "I'm so sorry, you don't even have your shirt on yet and I come bursting in like this upset little schoolgirl," she wept.

"Oh come now, I have you shame and you know that," he said casually, reaching for his shirt and fitting in over his head. "Have a seat," he said, motioning to the bed.

She sniffed, calming down a bit. "I don't want to get your bed soaked."

He took her by the arm, leading her to sit by him on the bed. She gave in, plopping herself down next to him, and then putting her head in her hands. "I just don't know what I'm going to do without him, Jack."

He made sure to choose his words carefully. "Well, I'd imagine that you'll do just fine. You're not exactly a weak person, Camille darling."

"Jack, what…I don't…why am I such a terrible person?" she exploded, standing back up.

He looked at her, raising his eyebrow. "Beg pardon?"

"All he wanted was for me to marry a wealthy man, and I couldn't even do that! I've gone and worried my father to death," she said, biting her nails and shaking even more.

"Darling, sit down," Jack said firmly. She obeyed him, and he held her shoulders to try and stop her from shaking. "Did _you_ want to marry a wealthy man?"

She shook her head. "No, not really."

"Than why do you feel so bad about it?"

"Jack!" she exclaimed, beginning to cry again hysterically. "Jack, he's dead!"

"I know that love, but what does your feeling guilty about it have to do with anything? That's not going to change things," he said in his gentlest voice. And this seemed to do it. She calmed right down and stopped shaking, but still looked so tiny. Her arms were still crossed, hugging herself. He stood up and got his coat, taking off the wet blanket and throwing it in the corner. He replaced it with his coat, and could tell that it was more comforting to her than the blanket.

She put her hand through her hair and finally looked at him. "Jack, I can't say that I've ever been more confused in my life," she admitted. "And I'm so-"

He put his finger to her lips and shook his head. "Please don't apologize. You're tired, you need rest darling."

"No." She shook her head. "No, I have to get back. They don't know I'm gone…"

"Calm down. You're not leaving until the rain stops, and that's final. I'll wake you in the morning, I promise," he said, buttoning up his shirt. "I don't need sleep, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," he said, guessing what her next question would be.

Camille found herself entirely too worn out to argue. She laid her head on the pillow, with the intention of sleeping for only a few minutes. But she fell into a peaceful sleep.


	35. Nick of Time

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. This chapter is titled after another Johnny Depp movie.

Chapter 35: Nick of Time

Jack covered her in the rest of the blankets, making sure she was asleep before he did so. Before he knew it, the sun was rising. He was hungry, but he didn't dare leave Camille's side. He sat in the room, and sometimes paced back and forth, continuing his newly adjusted train of thought. He was going to have to wake her.

She looked so beautiful and peaceful. He approached her cautiously, wondering how to wake a woman up. This was also something that he didn't remember ever doing before. After pondering for a moment, he went over and gently shook her.

"Camille," he whispered.

"Mmm," she moaned, turning her head over and blinking. "What time is it?" she mumbled.

"It's almost nine of the clock, darling."

She raised her head, brushing her hair out of her face and searching for the clock. He was right. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up and letting the covers fall off. "Annie is going to be very upset with me," she sighed. And even though she was tired, she still looked beautiful.

They hurried out of the inn, leaving a small bag of money on the front desk. They were extremely stealthy, since it was broad daylight out. The hardest part of getting home was going from the front gate to the house without being seen. There were no trees in the front of the house, so they painstakingly snuck around the back, which was very difficult to do since the house was on somewhat of a small cliff. But they made it, sneaking in the back door almost silently when Will appeared.

"Camille, where the hell have you been!" Will demanded in a tone that he rarely used. Cadence was sitting at his feet, chewing on her doll. She waved her little hand at Camille.

Camille smiled at the baby. "Hello, darling," she said, ignoring Will and locking the back door.

But Will continued. "We've all been worried sick about you; you had better have a brilliant excuse as to why you've been missing!"

Jack said nothing, knowing that he was entirely at fault for not seeing Camille back sooner. But Camille began loosening her makeshift belt, laying her weapons across the kitchen counters. She avoided making eye contact again. "I really don't wish to speak about it, Will."

"That's really not good enough for me," Will said sourly.

Camille rolled her eyes, taking off her green bandana. "I was simply out for a walk."

"Out for a walk? It was the middle of the night, Camille! And dressed like a bloody pirate? You could have been arrested!" he ranted.

She proceeded to take her boots off. "Will please, I was perfectly safe. After all, Jack was with me."

"Oh, indeed," Will said angrily, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Perfectly safe."

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Jack asked, offended. But Will just glared at him.

Camille straightened up, placing her hands on her hips. She looked absolutely gorgeous, standing there looking so upset. "William dearest, could we _please_ have this conversation at some other time? You're being quite rude in front of company," she said, nodding in Jack's direction.

Will was about to explode. His face was red, and there was a vain throbbing in his forehead. But Camille was very entertained by this reprimanding session. She felt a small tug at her trousers and looked down. It was little Cadence, and she smiled, showing her mouth almost full of teeth now.

Camille knelt down and picked her up, nuzzling her. She looked at Will, knowing that he couldn't stay mad at her while she interacted with his daughter. "Did you really believe that I would put myself in any danger, Will?" she asked.

"Yes, I do. You're a pirate," he said, accentuating the last word.

"And have I ever given you a reason not to trust me?"

Will's eyes widened, just like they did every time she reminded him of Jack. It was shocking to him, and he had never noticed it before just how perfect they were together.

"Miss Camille!" came high-pitched shriek. Sheila came running down the stairs, and embraced Camille's legs. "Mother, Miss Camille's back!" she exclaimed gleefully. Then she stepped away, looking up at Camille. "I told them that you wouldn't leave us."

Camille smiled. "I certainly would not. Not without saying goodbye, first."

Annie appeared next, lifting up her skirts and running toward Camille. She embraced her, and Camille was expected a lecture from her as well, but it never came. Instead, Annie just hugged her.

"Camille, I was so worried about ya, I didn't know what was goin' through yer head," Annie confessed.

"I'm all right Annie, I just went to the inn," Camille said in a calm voice.

At this, Annie pulled away and narrowed her eyes at Jack.

Jack cleared his throat. "Morning," he said cheerfully.

Annie looked at him disdainfully. "Good mornin', Captain Sparrow," she almost spat as she took Camille's arm and began leading her away. "Come, Sheila."

"Mother, can't I stay with Captain Sparrow?" Sheila asked hopefully, looking at Jack who smiled at her.

"You most certainly may not!" Annie said. "Come on, now. Upstairs. We've got a service to attend, and you've got to help me get Miss Camille ready."


	36. A Pirate Is Born

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 36: A Pirate Is Born

Ana Maria came in from the dining room, looking tired and in a dark maroon dress. She smiled. "Mornin', Jack. Did you bring Camille back with you?"

He nodded. "Aye."

"Good. This one's been frettin' over her like a lovesick puppy," Ana said, straightening up the kitchen.

"I have not," Will protested.

"Yes, that's why you _almost_ summoned the Commodore," Ana Maria added.

"Bloody Norrington!" Jack exclaimed. "What a fine idea, William! And land me in the cells," he said sarcastically.

"Well how was I supposed to know she was with you?" Will argued.

"When hasn't she been?" Ana Maria interjected, still putting plates and glasses away in cupboards. "Jack guards her like a lion."

Jack glanced at Ana Maria. "That'll be enough from you, woman. I can have this argument without your commenting," he said in a low voice.

Will looked around. "Where did Cadence go?" Then he sighed. "Camille, could I please have my child back?" he hollered.

"In a moment Will, you've still got to calm down some!" Camille shouted back.

Will shook his head. "Your woman is driving me completely mad, Jack."

"_My_ woman? Don't you mean _your_ woman?" Jack said in a strange tone.

Again, Will shook his head. "She's not with me. I assumed she had strong feelings for you."

Jack thought for a moment. This was even more confusing. "Camille!" he yelled.

"Yes, Captain?" she called back.

"Whose woman are you?" he asked before being hit on the back of the head by Ana Maria. "Ouch!" He looked at her. "What?"

"You are an idiot," Ana said, making her way through the house to the front hallway. "Are you ready, Will?" she asked.

"Yes," Will replied, putting on his hat.

"Aunt Annie, are we almost ready?"

"Yes Ana," Annie said as she came down the staircase with Sheila. "Peter!"

The boy appeared shortly, looking adorable in his little outfit. He saluted Jack when he saw him. "Hello, Captain," he said formally.

"Good morning, Peter," Jack greeted him. "At ease."

Peter did so. "My name's not Peter anymore," he informed Jack.

"Oh?"

"I'm going by the name of Pilfering Pete," he said as his mother gave him an exasperated look.

Jack got a huge grin on his face. "And a fine name it is!" he said enthusiastically. Annie just looked at the two of them.

Camille appeared, in a dark blue dress lined with black lace. He hair was all up, except for a few wisps the hung down in the front and back. And as Jack noticed all of this, he also took the time to notice the huge blue diamonds hanging loosely around her neck. They could make any thief go weak in the knees.

She was still holding Cadence, and handed him to Jack as she got downstairs. Ana Maria looked at her. "Don't tell me…"

"Oh, the children will be fine with Jack," Camille insisted. "He can't come along without getting sentenced anyhow," she reasoned. Then she looked at Peter. "Why hello, Peter. Don't you look handsome in that outfit," she complimented.

Peter bowed his head. "Thank you, Miss Camille. And might I add that that dress makes your breasts look very appealing, as well."

The look on Annie's face was priceless. "Peter…Edward…Williams…" she said slowly, not being able to finish the sentence. Will's jaw dropped, as Ana Maria put her head in her hands and sighed. Camille pressed her lips together, trying very hard not to laugh.

Jack shook his head quickly. "No, not in front of your mother," he mouthed, and now he was also receiving the deadly look from Annie.

Peter had made the comment with such confidence, thinking that everyone would be impressed. But now he cringed, seeing the look on his mother's face and wondering if he would be whipped now or after the service.

Camille took a breath, and was finally able to keep a straight face. "Why thank you, Peter. But for future reference, most ladies appreciate it more when you look above the neckline," she said, winking at him.

He swallowed, looking at her nervously and nodding feverishly. "Yes, Miss Camille."

She smiled. "All right, then. Shall we?" she said, putting her arm out so that Peter could take it. The rest were still caught up in the moment, and they followed without a word until they got into the carriages where Annie announced heatedly that she would be washing the boy's mouth out with soap that afternoon.


	37. The Tea Party

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. This is another scene that I put in the story purely for the reader's entertainment. I think it's a cute scene, so enjoy.

Chapter 37: The Tea Party

The service was a long one, and even though Camille had already cried she was able to summon up a few tears to shed during the funeral. Of course, they ran into Commodore Norrington and every other person who wished to express their sorrow to Dorian's daughter.

She was quite exhausted when she got home, and her damned corset wasn't helping one bit. It felt like her ribs were rubbing together. When they got back, Annie excused herself and Peter while Ana Maria and Camille helped each other change out of their exquisite dresses.

Once in a much simpler design, Camille felt a bit less tired and wondered where Jack and the girls were. She heard a voice, and pushed open Will's door a little. There was the pirate, bent over Cadence's cradle, singing in a familiar language. In fact, the tune was familiar as well. She listened carefully, and recognized it as the lullaby that she usually sang in Gaelic.

She stood there, not making a noise, impressed that Jack had been able to pick up the words so perfectly. He had a low voice, but it carried the tune very well and was very calming to listen to as he rocked her back and forth.

Camille looked at him. He was so focused on singing Cadence to sleep that he didn't even notice her out of the corner of his eye until he got up. Then he started. He recovered quickly, by putting his finger to his lips. He made his way outside and closed the door quietly.

"How did you learn the words to that song?" Camille whispered, still amazed.

"How do you think? By listening to you," he said before hearing a small voice come from the end of the hallway.

"Captain Sparrow, your tea is growing cold!" Sheila called.

"Oh, my. Camille, I'm terribly sorry but you'll have to excuse me I just can't miss this appointment," he said, waving his hands about and swaggering down to the end of the hallway.

Camille was speechless. Captain Jack Sparrow, the fearsome pirate, was having tea with little Sheila and most likely her favorite doll, Agatha.

Jack came in and sat down a bit awkwardly at the small, but cutely decorated little table. There was another doll sitting there, and Sheila turned to her. "How's your tea, Miss Agatha?" Then she proceeded to pour Jack some "tea".

He reached for the small plastic purple cup. "Thank you, darling," he said, holding his pinky finger out daintily and pretending to sip it.

"Would you care for a cookie, Captain Sparrow?" Sheila asked, offering him a plate of actual crumpets after placing a couple on Agatha's plate.

He reached for some. "Did you make these yourself, Miss Sheila?"

She nodded. "I was up all morning baking them," she said before sipping her tea. "So Captain, how are the children doing?"

He paused, trying to think of names. "Well, Peter's about to start school this year, and Cadence is still having a bit of trouble sleeping through the night. But that daughter of ours, Sheila…well, Camille and I are just so proud of her," Jack said before taking a bite of one of his crumpets. They tasted horrible, and he tried not to make a face. "How are things going with you, Miss Sheila?"

"Well," she began. "Michael has asked me to marry him, and we're planning the wedding for next April."

"That sounds lovely, darling."

"Oh, yes."


	38. An Unrivaled Jealousy

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 38: An Unrivaled Jealousy

Camille knew better than to stand out in the hallway and listen in on children's games uninvited, so she made her way downstairs. Cadence had been growing "like a tree", according to Will, so she had gotten together some of Sheila's old clothes and began to hem them up.

Will emerged from the library, and Camille was so into her work that she didn't even look up. She was still feeling a little apathetic after the morning's accusations. He stood there for a moment, waiting for her to notice him. When she didn't, he politely cleared his throat. She glanced up.

"May I sit?" he inquired.

"No," she answered simply.

"Camille, are you still angry with me? I was only worried about you."

"I told you I don't wish to speak about it," she said, losing focus and pricking her finger.

"Then I shan't say anything about that."

"Then you may have a seat," she said, moving the pile of clothes to the floor.

Will sat down. "This is about Jack."

"What about him?" she said, sucking on her finger.

"Well, he seems to have gotten the impression that you and I are…together."

A look of surprise came over Camille's face. "Really? Then we must have been putting on quite a show for him and everyone else, the way our friendship has been blossoming. That poor man must be so confused."

Will nodded. "I agree."

"Does he know yet that Ana Maria is not returning to the _Pearl_?"

"No, I don't think he knows."

"Don't think he knows what?" Jack asked, descending the staircase with his charming style.

Camille smiled upon seeing him. "How was the tea, Captain?"

"Oh, it was quite lovely," Jack said, fixing the little bead thingy that hung down over his bandana. "You know darling, I do think I may have grown rather attached to that one," he said, gesturing to Sheila's room.

"Well she is very fond of you, Jack. You seem to have broken her shyness like no other," Camille said as they heard a cry.

Jack looked up. "I swear to God mate, that infant does not sleep," he said to Will.

"Welcome to fatherhood, Jack," Will said, standing up.

But Jack motioned for him to sit back down. "Unlikely," he replied, ascending the stairs and reappearing with Cadence, who was rubbing her eyes and holding her doll.

"Daddy!" she squealed, putting her arms out as Jack came downstairs.

"Hello, Cadence," Will said, receiving her on his lap. "Were you a good girl for Jack?"

Cadence nodded, dropping her doll on the floor as she did so. Her head snapped down, and she grabbed for it, but too slowly. "Dam mit," she said.

Will and Camille both exchanged glances. "Did she just say what I think she said?" Camille asked unsurely, not catching the horrified look on Jack's face.

Will looked at her, then at his daughter. "What did you say just now, Cadence?" he asked her.

"God dam mit," Cadence said, in three short syllables.

Will looked directly at Jack, narrowing his eyes. "I wonder where you learned that," he said almost threateningly.

Camille clapped her hand over her mouth, trying to contain her laughter, but she saw the look on Jack's face and couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, putting Jack a bit at ease.

"Camille please, this is no laughing matter," Will said, reaching down to get the doll. Cadence reached for it, but he held it just out of her reach. "Not so fast. We don't say that word, young lady. Do you understand?"

Cadence nodded, still reaching for her doll. Will dropped it, and she hugged it as he stood up, carrying her.

"Come now Will, I'm sure it was an accident," Camille said, calming down.

Jack nodded. "I assure you, it won't happen again," he said, still casting a nervous glance at the baby.

But Will just didn't see the humor in it. He looked at Camille, and then at Jack, then back at Camille. "The two of you are incorrigible," he said before leaving the room with Cadence.

Camille looked at Jack. "Was that all you said?" she asked in a low voice.

"Not entirely. I stubbed my toe on the end of Will's bed just before I put the little runt down to sleep. There was a five minute lapse of, shall we say, 'pirate-like language'."

Camille laughed again. "Will is going to be tearing his hair out."

Jack nodded. "Precisely. Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea for me to be alone with these children. Pilfering Pete already has it in for him."

Camille looked at him oddly.

"He took a pirate name," Jack explained.

"Oh, I see. So you're teaching them bad language and lines that would get them slapped by whores?"

"Well, I'd prefer the term 'moral values'," he corrected her.

"Of course, of course. Jack, I must inform you that Ana Maria is not coming aboard _The Black Pearl_ when we leave. She wants to remain with her family for a while."

Jack looked at her. "I see."

"Don't worry, you'll still have me," she said happily. "I've had just about all the corsets I can take."

"Darling, did you and William get into a nasty squabble or what?" Jack asked her, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"No, Jack. Will couldn't stay angry with me to save his life. I mean, it's not as if he's my lover or anything like that," she said casually, observing the expression on Jack's face. Perhaps she imagined it, but she thought she could see a little bit of a smirk run across his face for a split second.

"No, I suppose not," he said, stroking his beard.

"Besides," Camille added, standing up and make her way towards Jack, "He's got nothing on you, Jack," she said, standing as close as she could to him without touching him.

"So does that mean you didn't sleep with him?" he asked, hoping she'd say that she didn't. But as soon as the words left his mouth he regretted it. That was one of the last things to say, besides touching a woman's age.

She looked at him, not believing he'd just said that to her. "I really don't see how that's any of your business," she said, taking a step backward.

"No, no, don't go that way, I didn't mean it, honest," he begged.

"Jack, you sleep with plenty of women and I never ask you about it," she said, remaining in her place.

"Let's face it, you don't kiss a man like that you've never slept with," Jack said. "Just admit it."

Camille looked at him, and kissed him lightly beside his mouth like she did with Will. "That's to prove you wrong." Then she slapped him REALLY hard. "And that's because you just wanted me to kiss you." She gathered the pile of clothes and said and added, "And you should really learn how to speak to a lady." As she left, she turned around. "Perhaps you could take a few lessons from Will. He got me into bed on the first try," she said before turning on her heel.

"What?" Jack demanded.

"You heard me correctly, Captain Sparrow!" she said, making her way through the hall as he followed her.

Will appeared. "Camille, what are you shouting about?"

She glanced back to make sure that Jack was in sight, and grabbed Will around the neck. Before he was aware what was happening, she kissed him, pressing him into the wall. His grip on her tightened, and she finally pulled away. Will was speechless, and the two of them looked at Jack, not knowing what to expect.

"You bloody tramp!" he bellowed, picking up a candlestick and throwing it to the ground, shattering it into pieces. He left, slamming the door and stomping down the hallway.

Will just looked at Camille. "Sorry," she quickly apologized.

But Will understood enough. He rolled his eyes. "That man really needs to learn how to talk to a woman."

"Aye."


	39. How to Speak to a Lady

Disclaimer: I don't own most of these characters.

Chapter 39: How To Speak to a Lady

Camille was in her room on her bed later that night, reading. Tomorrow was her last day in Port Celebros, but she couldn't help feeling more than spiteful against the jealous captain.

She threw her book down, bringing her knees up to her chest and looking at herself in the mirror. He was completely ridiculous. Every time she attempted to have anything slightly romantic with him, they managed to get into an argument over something silly. Maybe that was how he had planned it so that she would not attach herself to someone so impossible.

She sighed. Her father's words continued to echo in her head. And it had to mean something, because he had hated Jack from the very beginning.

Tiptoeing for no reason at all, she knocked lightly on Jack's door which was right next to hers. She heard nothing except the Captain's voice sounding very unfazed. "If your hair is red, then go away."

She rolled her eyes. "Jack, will you please stop acting like such a child?"

"I will stop acting like a child when you stop acting like a whore," he replied.

She knew much better than to get angry at a comment like this from him. But she still clenched her teeth together before speaking. "Done," she promised.

"Well then, come in," he said, changing to a more pleasant tone as she opened the door. He was sitting by the fireplace, smoking one of her father's pipes and reading. He looked quite comfortable, and she almost forgot why she was mad at him.

He looked up at her lazily, as he shut the book. "I'm taking this chair with me tomorrow," he stated.

"That's fine, Jack. And do you plan on taking me as well?"

He took a puff on his pipe. "If your attitude improves, I might consider it."

She couldn't help it. She let out very exasperated sigh. "You know Jack, I am really growing tired of this."

"And I very much enjoy you wrecking the last of my nerves," he said sarcastically, getting up and proceeding to clean the pipe out.

She crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Do you even want me back on the _Pearl_?" she asked timidly.

He didn't seem to notice the change in her voice. "Of course I do, why would I not?"

She took a seat in Jack's former chair. "Well, we haven't exactly been getting along lately. Perhaps I'm just not cut out to be a pirate," she confessed.

"See now, there's another thing," he pointed out.

"What?"

"You," he said, putting the pipe down and turning around to face her. "Always changing your mind, always going back on everything. I don't play that game, Camille, you're either on my ship or you're not," he said sternly.

"Yes, and I'm either your woman or no one's, I know how you think. Everything's always black and white with you Jack, and you don't understand."

He straightened up, biting the corner of his mouth. "Well apparently, we have had loads of misunderstandings between us. If you choose to remain here I am not coming back for you."

"Oh Jack, don't say that. You're being so insensitive."

"I am the one being insensitive? Oh, excuse me," he said, again with sarcasm.

She stood up, glaring at him. She was ready to cry. "I'm staying," she said, before leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

Jack let a low growl escape from his lips. He didn't mean to upset her, he really didn't. But for some reason he just could not speak to her in a decent manner anymore. He put his head in his hands. "Jack old boy, you're losin' your charm," he told himself.

Will of course, had heard the entire thing, his room being the next one over and the walls being hollow as they were. He shook his head, taking matters into his own hands and going next door without even knocking.

Jack didn't even bother looking up. "Go away," he said, proceeding to put his book away.

"I think it's time you took my advice, Jack," Will said. "She's just lost her father, you must try and be more understanding."

"That's right!" Jack realized, moving about the room. "But she is so damned moody!" he complained.

"Of course she is, she's a woman. I would think you would have had this all figured out by now."

"Oh, not her."

"Well you had better figure it out soon, because I've got to get some sleep tonight," Will said with his arms crossed.

"Of course, it's all about you, isn't it?"

"Jack, for Pete's sake, just tell her how you feel. What have you possibly got to lose that you can't just up and run away from?"

Jack thought a moment at this, stroking his split beard. "True. Very true," he pondered. Then he snapped back into reality. "What do you think she'll say?" he asked Will.

"I really don't know, but if there is anymore screaming to be done between the two of you, then please wait until morning."

"Thanks for the support, mate. I really appreciate it," Jack said sarcastically.

"My pleasure. Goodnight, Jack," Will said tiredly, exiting and going next door to his own room. Before he did, he stopped and turned around. "By the by, she and I were never intimate. Not that it's any of your business."

Jack paced about for a moment or two, wondering what exactly he would say. He planned out his words carefully, since he seemed to be so terrible at speaking to Camille. When he had decided exactly what to say, he boldly went next door and knocked loudly on her door. No reply. He knocked again, and then proceeded to look through the keyhole. Nothing. The candles were lit, but the room was completely empty.

A few minutes before, Camille had dressed in her blouse, corset and trousers and slipped out of her window with the intention of heading to _The Black Pearl_. She still had tears behind her eyes, but she knew that if she was going to stay behind than she had to see the ship just one more time to say goodbye.

She took her time, sneaking aboard and waltzing about in Jack's cabin. She thought about taking something of his, something that he would notice and remember her. The guitar? No. One of his treasure maps? Definitely not. How about a book off his fantastic shelf of literature?

She browsed the titles, taking her time, reading most of them aloud. Finally, she decided on the book of poetry by William Wordsworth. It was the title of his poem that made her realize his uncanny ability to come across as so much more than a rogue pirate. Yes, she thought. That was the right book to take.

She made it back easily, without any trouble at all. She climbed into the window, unlocked it, and let herself back in. As she made over the balcony, she stopped dead at seeing somebody lying on her bed. It was Jack! And he looked like he was asleep. Had he waited up for her?

Her heart began pounding and she put her hand to her chest. He really did care. She slipped off her boots and took the bandana out of her hair, setting it down on the dresser. She looked at the sleeping captain, and the terrible pit in her stomach was gone. That pit had been there since the argument, and she had carried it with her to the ship and back. He looked so incredibly handsome, with the candlelight hitting his face just right.

She didn't have the heart to wake him up. She bent over and blew out the few candles that were lit, and quietly padded over to the bed. Jack was lying on his back in the middle of it, so she crawled on as softly as she possibly could on her hands and knees.

She hovered over Jack for a second, wondering just how she was going to do this. She carefully placed herself so that her face would be resting just below his, and her head on his shoulder. She lowered herself gently, which caused him to stir a bit. "Shh," she whispered, placing her mouth the side of his prickly chin.

"Mmm," he said, sounding peaceful as he brought one of hands up and drape it around her back, holding her securely. The other one was wrapped above her waist.

"Goodnight, Jack," she said voicelessly.


	40. Back on the Pearl

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 40: Back on the _Pearl_

She woke up with his arms around her. She was facing in the other direction, towards her wardrobe and dresser and that furniture. It took her a moment to remember what had happened last night, but she did.

"Morning, love," Jack said lazily. She was about to ask how he knew, but he replied, "Your breathing changed."

She stood up, running her hands through her red hair and letting it fall back down as she reached for a brush. She could see Jack in the mirror, sitting up on the bed and stretching a little. She turned around, still brushing out her hair. "Did you sleep well?"

Jack nodded, standing up. "Camille, there's something that I must tell you."

"Can it wait until after we leave?" she asked him.

He approached her, taking her hairbrush from her and placing on the dresser. She stood there, drawing nearer to him as he pulled her. Without saying a word he simply looked at her and kissed her like the night at the tavern. It was a very passionate kiss, and made Camille weak in the knees.

He pulled away, and she stood there with a serene look on her face. "Is that all, Jack?"

"Well there are more things that will come eventually, but for now let's just keep it sexual," he said honestly.

She laughed, making him smile. "Kiss me again, you filthy pirate," she said just as playfully, and he did so.

It was finally time for the two of them to leave. There were no tearful goodbyes between any of them, because Camille reassured everyone that she would be back. The girls all hugged for a very long time, and Jack waited patiently.

"You know what I'm going to say," Will said.

"Oh, I know. And I'll find you a woman, but I can't guarantee that you won't have to pay for her," Jack teased. Will rolled his eyes.

"Annie, I promise I'll write whenever I'm given the opportunity," Camille was saying. She held Cadence in her arms, and Sheila was clinging to her leg.

"Wait a minute," Jack noticed. "Somebody's missing. Peter!" he called.

No reply. Jack cleared his throat. "Pilfering Pete!" he bellowed. Almost immediately, the boy appeared and stumbled down the stairs, standing up straight in front of Jack. "Yes, Captain!"

This was all very amusing to Jack, but he resisted the urge to grin. "I am leaving the Quartermaine household under your watch, sir," he said very formally, with his hands behind his back.

Peter nodded. "Aye, Captain. Anything else?"

"Well, no. I suppose you already have it in your head to obey your mother," Jack said casually.

"But Captain, pirates don't listen to their mothers!" Peter stated. "They go around pillaging and plundering, and sailing at sea…" he trailed off.

"Aye, that they do. But not until their chores are completed, Master Williams. And a good pirate is always the first one to the dinner table. With clean hands, of course."

Peter looked at him.

"Do you think I be lyin' to you, boy?" Jack questioned.

Peter quickly shook his head. "N-no, sir," he replied.

"I didn't think so. Dismissed," Jack said. But as Peter began to move, he loudly cleared his throat.

Peter looked from Jack to Annie. "Mother, could I be excused?" he asked politely.

She nodded, casting a grateful glance at Jack, who winked back at her before Peter and Sheila scampered off. Everyone had said their farewells, except Will and Camille.

The three of them headed towards the door, and Camille turned to Will. "I'm afraid I can't guarantee that we won't get into trouble," she explained. "But I'll try my best not to get us in too deep."

Will smiled. "Please write. And please, come back someday. Even if only for Cadence's sake; you really have been like a mother to her."

Camille could feel a lump in her throat, so she hugged Will tightly, kissing him lightly on the cheek as he did the same. Jack nodded at Will before shutting the door.

Once outside, Camille took a deep breath. "That was very hard," she admitted.

"You'll see them again, darling," Jack said, taking her arm. "But I still think that-"

"I didn't sleep with him," she protested, knowing what Jack was going to say. "Honestly Jack, I wanted to, but I didn't. He's still getting over Elizabeth, and you know as well as I do that women only complicate things."

"Oh, I do."

"Besides, it would have been incredibly awkward."

"I suppose so," Jack said. They had reached the docks, and were right beside the _Pearl_. Jack took in a deep breath of salty air. "Have you ever seen a better sight? Besides me naked, of course."

She laughed, stroking his arm. "Jack, I haven't seen you naked yet," she said softly.

He looked down at her. "All in good time, my love. But you'll have to wait. I do have a crew to command."

"Yes, Captain," she said, not bruising his ego just yet. She ascended the gangplank, saying 'hello' to all of the men, catching them up in the events of Port Celebros as they did the same with the whole Norrington incident. Apparently, he didn't cause much trouble once he believed them to be nothing more than a group of merchant sailors.

Camille got right back into her habit of cleaning and cooking the meals. It felt wonderful to be doing work again, and not just sitting around. But she tried her very hardest not to think about baby Cadence and the children, whom she would have the toughest time without. And it would be hard to adjust to life without Ana Maria, as well.

Mr. Earl appeared in the galley as she was cleaning up. "Captain Sparrow wants to see you in his quarters. He told me to take over," he said shortly.

"All right, then. Thank you, Mr. Earl."


	41. The Sex Scene

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Author's Note: WARNING! This scene is why I have chosen the most mature rating for this story. It is an XXX scene, so if you don't feel comfortable reading it you can just skip this chapter and the story will continue from there. But I highly recommend you read it with a cigarette available afterwards.

Chapter 41: The Sex Scene

Camille made her way to Jack's cabin, where the door was wide open. This was very unusual, because Jack always enjoyed his privacy. She walked right in, looking around. "Jack?"

He appeared, through the doorway of his office. His coat and hat were gone, and he looked quite comfy in his bare feet. "Hello, darling!" he said gaily, lifting his bottle of rum before swaggering over to her. "Would you care for some rum?" he offered.

Camille didn't quite know how to react to this. He was in an amazingly pleasant mood, which rarely happened. He was also sharing his alcohol with her and not hoarding it for himself, which was also rare. She had never witnessed this before. And he wasn't upset about the book she'd taken? She accepted the half empty bottle he was holding out to her. "Thank you," she said slowly, taking the bottle and sipping from it.

"Don't drink too much. You're going to need some concentration a bit later," he said, waving his finger at her as he shut the door and locked it.

Camille looked around. It was so bright in there! She looked up, above the table. That chandelier looked very familiar. "Jack, how did you manage to take a chandelier from my house?" she inquired.

He just grinned. "Would you like me to return it?"

"No, I think it looks wonderful. It makes the room so much more cheery," she said, proceeding to look around. The place did look very different. It was clean, as well. Usually things were caked in dust. And no maps lying everywhere between piles of books. "Okay Jack, what gives?"

"What do you mean, love?" he asked nicely.

"You've cleaned your cabin, you're sharing your rum with me, we're not in the middle of an argument…and you haven't even noticed that I stole your book."

He lifted his eyebrows. "What? Oh, Wordsworth, I know. What's your point?"

"Well it's a bit…unsettling," she said, placing her hands on her hips. "To me, at least."

"Well…" Jack said, scratching his head. "I suppose I could start an argument with you. I mean, if it would make you feel more at ease."

Camille smiled. "Are you doing this just for me?"

"I was, yes," he answered honestly.

"You don't have to do this to get me in bed with you, Jack."

"You know, that was the motivation. But after I did it all, I realized that whether I get you or not, I'm happy just to be spending an evening with you."

Her mouth dropped open. "Whoa," she said. This was certainly not Captain Jack Sparrow saying these sweet words. Certainly not a side of him that anyone had actually seen, or taken into account that it had even existed. "Whoa," she said again, putting her hands out. "That is crossing the line, Jack. Just what the hell are you getting at?"

"What are you talking about?" he said, surprised at her sudden disgust.

"I don't like this new game you're playing with me."  
"Camille, what game?" he insisted, beginning to get irritated.

"You! You would never say those things to me!" Then she held her tongue. Wait, why was she getting so upset over that? Wasn't it what she wanted? She had gotten so used to Jack's egotistical, childish ways that she didn't know how to tolerate this.

"All right then, you want me to call you a tramp again, is that it? Would that make you feel better?" he began yelling. She had gotten him going now.

"Jack no, I'm sorry," she said, coming towards him and trying to calm him down.

"I try and do something nice for you; I try to apologize, and you throw it in my face! I can't win with you, I just can't!" he was raving.

"I'm sorry, I just wasn't expecting it," she said, stepping up to him.

"Well then, what are you expecting? You might want to leave me a note next time, because all you do is confuse me," he said, not lowering the tone of his voice.

"Jack," she said calmly, but he wouldn't calm down. She forced his arms down at his sides and kissed him, backing him up against the wall. The tension on Jack's side immediately was turned into lust, and he wrapped himself around her.

He ran his hands down her neck, underneath the back of her dress. He quickly untied her corset and threw it to the side. She unbuttoned his shirt carefully, knowing how hard it was to find buttons. Once he was shirtless, she pulled off his "belt", or the rag he wore around his waist. Her dress was on the floor at their heels, and Jack took the rings off his fingers while they groped each other. Making their way to the bed, Jack's trousers finally came off and he lowered her gently, not separating his mouth from hers. _No, Jack_, he told himself.

Camille was trembling, her hair was coming out, and she shook her head so that it came down in a flurry of red and just scattered on the pillow. She bit Jack's lip, moving her hand down to his scrotum and being ever so gentle with it. I _can't have feelings for this woman_, he again tried to convince himself before all hope of that was lost.

Jack moaned. He had not been expecting her to do anything. He had never actually been intimate with a woman with whom he'd had romantic feelings for, so it had always just been for the sex. There was usually nothing leading up to it, no fooling around; not even anything oral except on rare occasions. He rolled over as she forced him to lie on his back, and then gently put her tongue between his testicles. He clutched the covers with each hand as she lightly ran her teeth along his penis, going around the head with the tip of her tongue. She then licked him all the way up to his navel, while at the same time grabbing his penis and squeezing it.

He couldn't hold back anymore. He sat up and grabbed her, pinning her underneath him and kissing her as he found her vagina and began gently massaging the outside of it.

Camille shuddered. His touch felt so good, and she tried to spread her legs wider and wider. It wasn't long until one of his fingers was stroking the inner lips, just by her clitoris. She would have been satisfied merely with this, because it felt so amazing. She could feel herself beginning to climax as he eased his way inside her.

Jack was extremely gentle, but his thrusts were powerful enough that they were both sweating within seconds. He had his mouth right next to her ear, holding her head close as he groaned. "Oh God, Camille. Oh my God," he whispered. Then he began grunting as they went faster.

She couldn't say anything, the ecstasy was so powerful. She moaned, and the moans turned louder until she nearly screamed if Jack's ears hadn't been so close to her mouth. She wrapped one of her legs around his buttocks, pressing as hard as she could against him. With a final thrust, they both climaxed at the same time. It only lasted a couple of seconds with Jack, but he still rubbed against her so that her orgasm lasted for about half a minute.

He watched her, trailing his hand slowly around her breasts as she finished. He slipped out of her, kissing each of her breasts slowly several times. They were both out of breath, and without saying a word he laid his head next to hers, draping his arm over her exposed body. Camille whimpered one final time, took one last deep breath, and fell asleep beside him as he did the same. (Smoke if ya got 'em! Woooooo!)


	42. The Morning After

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 42: The Morning After

Camille woke up feeling spectacular. She took a very deep breath and sank deeper into the pillow. Jack's arm was still around her body, and he was still out cold. She turned around and cuddled closer to him, wanting the morning to last forever.

However, her desire was cut short. There was a knocking at the door, and try as she might Camille could not wake Jack. So she slipped out from beneath him, quickly dressed, and answered the door.

It was Gibbs. He looked so utterly embarrassed that she almost laughed. He began stuttering an apology, but she just smiled and put her hand up. "No need to apologize. It was bound to happen one of these days. Is there something I could help you with? The captain's still asleep, I'm afraid."

"Well Miss Camille, it were just somethin' about the next port. I was wonderin' if we was to weigh anchor at the eastern or the southern part of the Fuego del Reina."

"Hm, I don't know. I'll have to ask Jack when he wakes up," she said.

"Much appreciated, Miss Camille," Gibbs said, making a small bow.

"No trouble at all. I'll see you in a bit, I've got to get my cleaning done," she said before shutting the door.

When Jack woke up Camille was just lacing up her boots. She looked up, smiling sweetly. "Good morning."

He blinked, rolling over onto his stomach and watching her. "Leaving so soon?"

"I tried to wake you, but you were out. You must've had a rough night," she said, winking and putting her leg down. "Besides, I've got my duties to attend to."

He sat up, rubbing his eyes and reaching for the small bottle next to his bed. It had a tiny bit of rum left in it. He took a swig, and then offered it to Camille. "Rum, darling?"

She came over and sat next to him on the bed, taking the bottle. "Yes, thank you," she said before finishing the last of it and placing it carefully on the bedside table. He still looked so handsome, even with those bags under his eyes. She sighed. "So what now? I'm still a bit new at this."

"Ah well, I kiss you…" he leaned forward and kissed her, "…and we maintain our duties until further notice."

"I see," she said. She stood up to leave, but then she turned back and he could see her biting her lip and was tempted to throw her clothes off again. "I know that you probably get this a lot, but…you were _incredible_ last night," she gushed. "I'll see you later, Captain," she said quickly before exiting his cabin.

Jack sat up, taking off the covers and stretching. The girl certainly knew the right things to say to get another round. Come to think of it, no woman had ever complimented him without being paid. Or maybe it was just that it had been too long since he had actually loved a woman. Had he ever even felt love? If so, then he had certainly forgotten. He was also certain that he was feeling it for Camille. He'd fallen hard and fast for her. He was already thinking about that night, about what they would do, what he would do to her. And all the while, the guilt continued to tear up his insides.

Then he sighed, getting his clothes on. Camille deserved more than just great sex. She was so perfect, and she had given up absolutely everything for him. And now his plan had backfired, because in spite of his best efforts he had fallen in love with Camille Quartermaine.

He spent almost the entire day thinking about this. What could he do to get rid of her? There was no turning back now, they were nearly in the Fuego del Reina. He would have to act quickly, and cleverly. And he was going to need an awful lot of rum afterwards.

Meanwhile that day, Camille's thoughts were very different. Jack had finally slept with her. And now that she knew how the captain worked, it was only a matter of time until he moved onto someone else. But then again, perhaps she would be his entertainment while they were at sea. _Camille, what have you turned into?_ she thought. She had gone from a high-class woman, to this pirate's little play thing. What would her father think of this? What had she been thinking last night? Now that she had given in, Jack was going to think that she was his. But she wasn't. She had to maintain her independence.

But then she thought about last night. And about how incredible and surprisingly perfect he had been to her. She ran her hand through her hair, imagining it was him. Then she choked back a sob. Her father was dead and buried, and here she was, contemplating how she felt about a pirate. How selfish of her. They were due to land at the eastern port in a few hours, she took this opportunity to get her head together.


	43. The Big Date

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 43: The Big Date

"Gentlemen, we are on a gold mine!" Jack announced as they were about to go ashore. "It's every man for himself, and the _Pearl_ will leave the Fuego del Reina in exactly two weeks. Do I make myself clear?"

"Aye, Cap'n," a chorus of weary men rang out before scattering.

"That settles it then," Jack said to himself. Where was that woman? Was she still below deck? Did she even know that they'd landed? He thought for a moment. It was possible that she wasn't aware of their position, though highly doubtful. Still…

He descended and knocked lightly on her door. "Camille darling, are you in there?"

"Yes, Captain," she replied dully.

"We're in the port, you know. Would you like to accompany me into town?" he asked.

"No thank you Captain, I'm not feeling too well."

He masked a grin. Perfect. This bought him a little while longer to finish concocting his plan. He took the piece of paper out his pocket and slipped beneath her door, making his way off the _Pearl_. He turned slowly, putting holding his hat over his heart. "Until we meet again, old girl," he said, referring to the ship itself.

Camille listened out her window, and fell asleep dreaming about many things that didn't make sense. When she woke up, she was very lonely. Sleeping in her own bed just wasn't the same anymore. And like it or not, she desired that debonair man.

She got up and pulled her hair back. Looking in her mirror, she noticed a small letter by her door. She opened it up, and all it said, in very neat cursive, was "Ortiz's- 8:00- ask for Alvero."

She opened her door, looking left and right down the dark hallway. But other than her, there was nobody on that ship. And what did the note mean? She looked for a clock or something, and found that it was nearly seven.

She got dressed, put her boots on, and was in the town in no time. The sights were magnificent. She had never seen anything like it. It was so beautiful compared to towns like Tortuga or Tostito. It was very clean, and the music she could hear was so different from the music that she had known. She admired things in the little shops, looking at food and merchandise, and browsing the literature.

At last, she found herself outside of an immense tavern with a worn out sign that said something in Spanish. But she could make out the name Ortiz. She walked right in, seeing that the place was lovely. There was some sort of Mexican band inside playing, and it looked like some sort of restaurant. She looked for a familiar face, but there was none.

A very handsome gentleman made his way up to her. "Hola, senorita," he said, folding his hand politely and bowing. "?Como esta Ud?"

"Uhm, I'm looking for a man named Alvero, please," she asked politely.

"Ah, senorita Camille!" the man said at once, taking her hand and kissing it. "Encantarle. I am he. Please, this way. El Conquistador has been expecting you."

She followed him, even though she had absolutely no idea who "El Conquistador" was. He showed her to a room and left her with the key. She opened it slowly, but there was no one in her room. She closed the door.

Making her way over to the bed, she gasped. There was a beautiful, painstakingly designed green skirt. And to go with it, a white, peasant top with an almost lace-like neckline. On top of the clothes was a single red rose, wrapped in tissue paper. "Oh, my God," she breathed, taking the rose. It was still closed, but it smelled wonderful. She placed it on the desk, and proceeded to put the clothes on and put her hair up in a small bun so that some of it was coming down her shoulder.

A knock on the door startled her, and she jumped. "Come in," she said, trying not to sound intimidated. She reached for the rose, trying to look casual as she peered at the doorway in the corner of her eye. And nothing could have prepared her for who she saw.

It was none other than Captain Sparrow, in an actual change of clothes. He had even changed his bandana. It was blue, and his clothes were black. His coat was much nicer, made out of some much finer material and lined with gold. His trousers were now brown instead of a faded grey, and his boots were either different or very clean. And the hat…the hat was bigger, and had a feather in the side. He looked simply extraordinary, and she almost dropped her rose.

But it was the look on his face that stunned her. His eyes were wide for a moment, and he leaned on the doorframe watching her. "Camille, you look absolutely gorgeous," he complimented before putting his hand out. "Come on darling, let's go."

She put the rose down on the dresser and took his hand. He squeezed it and began leading her down the hallway. They stopped at the top of the staircase, looking down on the place. Camille finally found her voice again. "What now, Jack?"

"Whatever you want, love. Are you hungry?"

"Actually, I'm famished," she admitted.

"Well then, let's eat. Do you like spicy foods?"

"I don't know, I've never had anything like this."

Jack smiled. "Come on, then," he said, leading her down the staircase.

The food was spectacular. Camille had never eaten anything like Mexican food, and it was terribly spicy. But it was delicious, and she couldn't believe how much she ate. The wine was also excellent.

It was late into the evening, and they ended up dancing and drinking shots of tequila. Camille had never had so much fun. Those Mexicans really knew how to have a great time, and Jack seemed to be enjoying himself as well. She liked the kind of music and the way that everyone danced, because it was always very close to each other with a lot of hip movement. And Jack was so graceful on his feet, even after several shots of tequila in him.

She pulled him close, and he held her firmly around the waist. "Jack," she said in his ear. "I'm getting tired, let's go somewhere where we can be alone," she said over the music.

"I know just the place," he said without hesitating. He took her hand and they weaved their way through the crowd of dancing people until they got upstairs. He led to the end of one of the hallways until they came to a trapdoor which he pulled down.

The stairs were a few feet above the ground, so he went first and helped her up, closing the door behind them. He then led her carefully through a little passageway and they climbed out of a window until they were on a small spot on the roof of the inn.

The little town looked breathtaking from this view. All the lights were still on, and the water glistened as the ships remained still. She looked up, and the stars were shining without a single cloud in the sky. "How did you know about this place?"

"I used to live here; didn't you know that?" he asked kindly.

"No, I didn't," she said, backing up against him. He put his arms around her, and placed his hand on her stomach. He rested his chin on her shoulder as she put her face against his. "Jack, this is so beautiful," she mused.

"I'm glad you like it, darling."

"You're not going to make this a habit, are you?" she asked, turning around suddenly.

He took a strand of her soft red hair. "I thought you liked all of this."

"Oh Jack, I do, this is incredible. But you must have gone through so much trouble."

"It was nothing, really."

"But, just for me?"

"Of course, just for you. You deserve to be happy just like anyone else."

"I am happy."

"And that love, is a very big deal," he said before he kissed her.

She kept her face close to his afterwards, looking up at him. "Thank you, for all of this. I can never forget tonight."

"Tonight's not over yet," he said. "Have a seat, love. Watch this, I guarantee you'll love it."

She obeyed him. The roof was at an angle where Jack could sit with his back against part of it, his feet dangling off the edge. Camille sat down on his lap and laid back against his chest as he held her, again playing with her hair. The sun was just beginning to rise, and Camille was able to stay awake until it appeared just above the water, casting its rays on everything.


	44. Betrayal in Paradise

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

A/n: Yes, I admit it. I have altered the character of Jack Sparrow. He is still cunning and sly, but now he has a bit of a soft spot. I think you'll like it anyway, though.

Chapter 44: Betrayal in Paradise

She woke up, thinking it had all been some spectacular dream. She rolled over, and the rose was on her pillow next to where she had been sleeping. She sat up and rubbed her eyes, noticing that she was still wearing the clothes. She fixed her hair and made her bed, wondering how she was going to deal with the fact that she had gone crazy. There was no way that man last night had been real. Jack had danced, he had dressed up, and he had showed her a sunrise. This was no pirate. He had spoken gently to her and held her like he would never let go of her. And he was always looking at her adoringly. Not Jack. Not the man who'd captured her for a ransom.

The door opened, and she looked up. Jack made his way inside, closing it gently behind him. "Good morning, Miss Camille," he said suavely. He was still wearing the clothes, with the exception of the hat and coat. "I take it you slept well."

Oh my God, it had all been real. She tried to make some sort of acknowledgement, but she was just in too much shock.

Jack looked at her. "You all right, love?"

"Lock the door," she demanded.

Jack lifted his eyebrows, surprised at her tone. He did so immediately. When he turned around, Camille was standing inches from him. He thought she was going to slap him from the look in her eyes. But she grabbed him; grabbed his face, and kissed him. Not only kissed him, but jammed her tongue down his throat. And that was that. There were clothes flying everywhere shortly, and the rest is left to the reader's imagination.

She rolled over, resting her chin on his bare chest and looking at him. "I didn't think last night was real."

"Hm? Oh, it was very real. And so was the check for all of it," he said.

She laughed, and hovered over him for a moment before she kissed him. "Jack, thank you so much. Nobody has ever done that for me before," she said, stroking his dreadlocks.

He sat up, letting the covers fall away a bit. He pulled her close. And he looked very serious. "Camille darling, you must understand why I did all of this for you."

She sat on his lap, listening intently with her arms around him. "Yes, Jack?"

"I want you know…" he ran his hand through her hair once more. "I want you to know that you can trust me."

"Jack, of course I do."

"And someday you must forgive me for this."

"For what? Jack, what are you talking about?"

He stood up, searching through the pile of clothes. "Get dressed, darling."

But she just sat there. "But Jack-", she protested.

He simply looked at her, getting his shirt back on. "Please love, we haven't got much time."

She scampered to get her clothes on (her pirate outfit), still trying to pry the information from Jack. But he wouldn't say another thing, and he proceeded to pull out the chair from in front of the dresser. He motioned for her to sit down.

She looked at him. "Do you expect me to listen to you now?" she asked, feeling for the doorknob.

"It's locked from the outside," he informed her. "Now will you please just cooperate with me this one time?" he begged.

"Jack," she said, stepping up to him and pulling his collar. "What is going on?" she asked, enunciating each word clearly.

He pushed her down, sitting her on the chair. "Well I can't tell you that, because it wouldn't be the same."

"This makes no sense," she stated as he took her arm.

"It's me, love," he said, trying to hold it steady. "Savvy?"  
"No!" she cried, standing up and pulling away from him. "No, it's not! Jack, I can't just trust you without knowing what's going on!"

"Look, I don't want to hurt you. Now sit down and stop squirming," he said, forcing her again to sit down and binding her hands behind the chair. Jack took the key out of his pocket and stuck it in hers. "You're going to want this as well." He put his finger to his lips. Camille went rigid as a knock sounded at the door.

"By the by," Jack said calmly. "I've had much better," he said, adjusting his belt as he looked into the mirror.

"You have not, you lying bastard!" she nearly shrieked as the door opened and five Hispanic-looking men came in. They approached her, lifting her out of the chair and dragging her outside. "Ah!" she cried. "No me toques! No me toques!"

Jack sighed heavily, sitting back down on the bed once they were gone. He felt like he was going to throw up for what he had just done. Turning Camille in? It was just wrong. Long John had been right, he was going soft. Reaching under his bed, he took the first bottle of rum and began chugging it.


	45. The Thatcher Household

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

A/N: I loved writing this chapter, because I finally sat down, reread everything, and put all of the clues together so that now everything makes sense. So now you can stop trying to figure everything out and go "Oh, so that's she meant." At least I hope so. Please enjoy and comment!

Chapter 45: The Thatcher Household

Camille was kicking and biting as she was forced into a stagecoach with the men. She stopped only when one of them held a knife to her throat. She didn't understand much Spanish, but she did pick up a part about a house and slaves, or perhaps servants.

She was able to calm down some by the time the coach stopped, but her mind was still reeling. The binds on her wrists were replaced with a pair of shackles, and she was forced out at knifepoint.

They were at the front gates of a grand house, almost like hers. She was led around to the back gates, where a man and a woman were standing. They were dressed as servants, and they took her and paid one of the Hispanics. Camille didn't say a thing, because this was certainly nicer than being roughly handled by strange men.

They both took her, removed her shackles and led her up the grand staircase to a bedroom, where the woman laid out a dress for her and the man disappeared. Camille was still a bit in shock, but the woman turned to her. "You're in the household of Maximilian Thatcher now. And he don't like to have his supper late," she said coldly as she passed Camille and shut the door behind her.

Camille just stood there, baffled. Not ten minutes ago she had been lying next to Captain Jack Sparrow in bed. Which reminded her of something…she reached in her pocket. The key? His key? The key that Long John Silver had given to her, and that she had given to Jack. What did this all mean?

One thing was for certain; Jack had known about this all along. He had purposely seduced her, knowing that she would fall straight into his trap. But why would he have given the key to her, when it meant so much to him? Obviously she was still part of the plan. And now she had to figure out just what exactly she would have to do to get back at Captain Sparrow. He underestimated her far too much, and she was tired of it.

A knock sounded at the door, as she was just finishing pinning up her hair. She smoothed out her dress. "Uh…come in!" she called. A very familiar-looking, bored man entered.

"I assume that you are the new girl?" he drawled. It was none other than her old butler, Benjamin, who had quit working for them years ago before her father became ill. She tried to hide her amusement as recognition washed over his face.

"M-miss Quartermaine?" he asked. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Hello, Benjamin. It's a rather long story, I'm afraid. And I don't particularly know if I'm at liberty to say."

Benjamin nodded. "Well, I will show you to your duties."

Camille had no problem whatsoever with the cooking and cleaning. She was so used to doing it on the Pearl, and with clean water it was so much easier. Except for Benjamin, the rest of the servants ignored her presence.

She was very interested in meeting her new owners, but was still very distracted with the previous events. How was she going to get herself out of this? Perhaps it was best to lie low for awhile here and try and figure out how to contact Will or Ana Maria. There was no doubt that Ana Maria would know what was going on. And she had nothing to lose by writing a letter anyway.

A voice boomed from the other room. "Constance! What is this mud doing on my floor!"

Camille peered out of the bustling kitchen to get a good look at Maximilian Thatcher. He was wearing a powdered wig, and her heart sank. She was in a British household. She sighed dishearteningly. "Bloody hell," she cursed. Before long, it would be corsets and crumpets galore. She hated crumpets. Perhaps being a servant, she wouldn't have to eat any. That thought lifted her spirits a bit, as she was summoned into the main hall to take the master's coat.

She took it and hung it in the main hall closet. Maximilian didn't give her the slightest acknowledgment as she did so. She made her way into the beautifully set dining room, lighting the candles.

When dinner was over, and all of the servants were gone to their quarters or to fulfill other duties, Camille was finally able to talk to Benjamin. He didn't know much, except for the fact that a few weeks prior to her arrival, one of the maids had gone missing.

"And that was probably Jack's doing, as well," she thought aloud.

"Jack?" Benjamin questioned.

"Yes, Jack Sparrow."

"You're involved with Captain Sparrow?" Benjamin asked. "Oh, dear."

"Yes, I know."

"No Miss Quartermaine, I'm afraid you don't. But not to worry. Young master Gabriel is quite knowledgeable in these aspects."

"Whatever do you mean, Benjamin?" Camille asked. Who was Gabriel?

"Follow me. Perhaps he hasn't retired just yet," Benjamin said, leading her upstairs. He pointed to the room at the end of the hallway. "That one is his. If you tell him that I told you anything, he shouldn't hesitate to share the secret with you. Make sure he knows your mother's maiden name," he explained.

She nodded. This was so strange and none of it made sense, but she just figured that she was in the middle of the puzzle. She could piece it together by herself if she had the chance to just sit down and think for a while.

She rapped gently on the door, and heard a voice from inside. "Who is it?"

"My name is Camille," she replied quietly.

In a short moment, the door was opened by a very handsome young man. He had blond wavy hair and blue eyes, and she had to catch her breath when she saw him. It took her a moment to remember what she was going to ask him. "Pardon my intrusion, but are you Master Gabriel?"

He nodded. "I am. Please, come in," he said, shutting the door behind them. "You must be the new servant girl. Camille, did you say your name was?"

"Yes," she nodded. She cleared her throat, and lowered her voice. "Benjamin told me that I should come to you. He said that you would know something."

Gabriel looked at her carefully. "Did he now? I can't imagine what he's talking about. "Don't you think it's getting a bit late?" he asked, opening the door.

"No, please," she begged, pushing in shut again. "Please, I came here to the Fuego with Captain Jack Sparrow. He is on his way to Diablo's Gate," she whispered.

Gabriel shut the door and locked it. "What do you know about Sparrow and the Gate?" he almost demanded.

She remembered Benjamin telling to make sure that Gabriel knew her mother's maiden name. "Well, nothing really. Aside from the fact that Long John Silver and Jack were brothers, and Long John is dead."

Gabriel narrowed his eyes. "What is your name, girl? Your _real_ name?"

"It's Camille Quartermaine. But you might recognize my mother's maiden name. It was Morgan Sullivan."

Gabriel's eyes widened. "You're a Sullivan!" he exclaimed. "That means that we haven't got much time at all," he said, unlocking his door and pulling it open a crack.

Camille sighed. "Could I have an explanation, please?" she asked impatiently.

"Yes, yes, come on," he said, taking her by the arm. "Quietly," he said, leading her downstairs across to the library. He opened the door and lit the lamps, leading her to a table. "Wait here," he said before closing the door and getting lost among the bookshelves.

She drummed her fingers on the table, keeping her other hand inside her dress and on the little key. Gabriel appeared shortly, with a rolled up piece of parchment. He seated himself across from Camille, looking at her very seriously. "How much do you know about your mother, Miss Camille?"

"Not much. She died when I was very little," Camille said softly.

Gabriel took a deep breath. "Do you know why she died?"

"She was accused of witchcraft."

Gabriel shook his head. "Morgan Sullivan, more recently known as Quartermaine, was a pirate."

Camille gasped. "She was? But I thought that-"

Gabriel put his hand up. "Please, allow me to explain."

Camille nodded anxiously.

"Thank you," he continued. "She was a pirate, along with my mother, Adrienne Thatcher. They were the protectors of Diablo's Gate. The keys have been handed down from mother to daughter, grandmother to granddaughter. It is a woman's job to protect the treasure, Miss Camille. I've tried to tell my sisters, but they refuse to believe such nonsense. So I've taken it upon myself to learn as much about the Gate as possible."

"Gabriel, did you say keys?"

"Yes, there are two. Two families must protect the gate at all times. Two different bloodlines must turn the keys, or else the Gate won't open. That's why Jack and John posed as brothers for a time being. Being related, they couldn't possibly be a threat to the Gate. Well, that and the fact that they aren't women."

"I still don't understand. Shouldn't the key have been in my possession? And yours?"

Gabriel nodded. "It most likely was, until it was stolen from you and given back to you. Your father knew nothing of this."

"So, when John gave me _his_ key to give to Jack, he was really giving me back _my_ own key?" she said, trying to unravel this story from what false information Will had told her.

Gabriel nodded. "There's no stopping them, Camille. And now that they're both in the Fuego they'll come for the five of us."

"But Gabriel, Long John Silver is dead. He died years ago," she assured him.

But he shook his head. "I saw him not three days ago. He is very much alive, Miss Camille."

"Oh, that can't be good," she said, feeling a sort of panic go through her body. Now it all made sense. Jack had merely played the part of seducing her to come to the Fuego. And she had fallen; she had placed herself right in the palm of his hand. Now it was up to her to protect, or open the gate. And she had the key. She placed the little key on the table in front of them, and Gabriel narrowed his eyes again.

"You still have the key?" he said.

"Captain Sparrow gave it back to me. But Silver must have his with him."

"Yes, because it certainly has been missing from the vault for years now. But, I managed to hide this in a much safer place," he said, unrolling the parchment.

Camille stared at it, finally understanding the pirate's adrenaline rush. It was a treasure map. Or at least part of it. The part with the red "x" on it. She looked up at Gabriel, and he looked back with a wide grin on his face. Between the two of them, they had one of the keys and the important part of the map. "Gabriel Thatcher, we are deader than dead," she said.

"Quite."

She went to bed that night, bearing the key still. Gabriel hid the map and went to his room. She collapsed on her bed. There was just too much to think about. Everything had happened at once, but at least she finally knew why all of this had been going on. At least she knew the key parts to the story. And there was no doubt that she was going to find herself aboard a pirate ship again.

She sighed. "Jack Sparrow, what am I going to do to you?" she asked herself, wondering if she was merely an object to him now or if she'd meant anything to him. He was a cold-hearted pirate, but he had been good to her. And everything he had told her whenever she'd been upset…where they _lies_? She didn't want to think about it anymore. She rolled over and forced herself to go to sleep.


	46. Gretchen Thatcher

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And if your name is Gretchen or Priscilla, please don't hate me for the next few chapters.

Chapter 46: Gretchen Thatcher

Somebody was pounding at her door. "Servant girl!" a shrill voice called. "I need you in here, now!"

Camille slowly got out of bed. She hated not remembering where she was when she woke up; it was getting frightening. Several moments passed, and she was dressed and out of her room. All of the noise was coming from down the hallway. As she was entering, a silver tray was just flying across the room. Camille had enough sense to duck, and it went right past her.

"It's too hot! I burnt my tongue, you worthless hag!" a woman was sitting up in bed, yelling. She looked just about Camille's own age, perhaps a bit younger. She had dark ebony hair, and a beautiful face. But now it was all scrunched up as she began to cry. "I can't start my day without my tea, and now I shall be late!" she sulked.

Camille tried to prepare herself for this one. But she couldn't do anything except stand there and look disgusted. So this was why none of the servants ever smiled. She thanked God that Annie had raised her better than to be a spoiled brat.

Suddenly, the girl in bed spotted her. "You there!" she said, rudely pointing. "Come fluff my pillows, they're becoming hard."

Camille bit her tongue, approaching the bed with a plastered smile and fluffing the pillows, which felt fine to her. She began leaving as a maid entered with the young woman's breakfast on a tray. She ducked as that too, came whizzing over her head shortly.

"The milk isn't cold enough, and there's too much fat on that sausage! You know I'm trying to watch my figure, you idiotic old coot!"

Camille saw a piece of sausage roll next to her foot. "Mmm," she said, picking up the piece and consuming it as she made her way downstairs.

Gabriel was passing the hallway, and he looked up at her. "Miss Camille! Lovely to see you this morning," he called.

"Good morning, Master Gabriel," she almost sang. Oh, was he handsome. She made her way downstairs and nodded. "Which one of your lovely sisters is that?" she inquired.

He listened a moment. "That's Gretchen. Beastly woman, isn't she? She's a tad miffed with me because I've been allowing her suitors to see the true side of her," he said with a snicker.

"God bless you," Camille said, looking up at the maid running around, picking up everything that was being thrown into the hallway.

"I was just about to go for a drive in the countryside. Would you like to accompany me?" he asked.

"Nothing would make me happier," she said honestly.

"Well, you can't go like that. We must get you one of Gretchen's dresses." He paused for a moment. "It sounds like the maids are dressing her now. Just stand by her doorway and wait for her to throw out something you like. I'll be waiting for you right here."

Camille nodded, making her way back upstairs. Gabriel had been right. And what a scene it was! There were articles of clothing flying everywhere, lying in the piles of breakfast, strewn about along the banister... Camille quickly picked out a lovely yellow one. She frowned as she would have to fit into a corset for this one, but she quickly took a deep breath and tied her own underthings together. That had always been an advantage of being a pirate. It didn't take two women to dress her anymore.

She put on a matching hat, pinned up her hair and was back downstairs in no time at all. Gabriel was patiently waiting for her, and she jumped as she heard another small voice. "No, I don't want that one! I want another pony…NOW!"

She looked at Gabriel questioningly. He took her arm. "That would be Priscilla. If you think Gretchen's bad, just wait until you meet that little firecracker." He helped her into the carriage and took the reins. "As you can see, I like to spend a good deal of my time out of the house."

Camille smiled at him, as the mansion became further away. "Yes, I can see you're quite avoidant. I think I would be as well, were I in your position." _And I would like to be in some positions_, she wanted to add.

Gabriel was so charming, and had a very witty sense of humor. He took her mind right off Jack, and she liked that about him. They spent almost the entire day walking, picnicking, and riding in the countryside until it was almost dark out. They discussed the treasure of Diablo's Gate a little more, but there was really nothing else to be said about it. All that was left to do now was to wait, and plan an escape.


	47. Maximilian the Tyrant

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC

Chapter 47: Maximilian the Tyrant

When they got back to the house it was nearly evening, and they quickly made their way upstairs so that they could change before dinner. But Gretchen had been in the drawing room, and came out just in time to see Camille wearing her dress.

The look on her face was appalling. She glared at the two of them before saying anything. Gabriel seemed very unfazed by this drama and bowed to his sister. "Gretchen, I would like you to meet Camille," he introduced them politely.

But Gretchen just looked at Camille. "How DARE you!" she sneered. "That's my dress! And my hat!" she cried.

"It's lovely to meet you, as well," Camille said sarcastically.

"And that necklace!" Gretchen said, pointing the big blue diamonds around Camille's neck. "They're probably stolen!"

"Gretchen, lower your voice," Gabriel scolded. "That's no way to talk to a guest."

"Guest?" Gretchen shrieked. "She's no guest, she's a thief! A bloody thief!" she ranted until Maximilian appeared.

"Gretchen darling, what is all this commotion about?" he asked, looking from his daughter to Gabriel to Camille. "And what are _you_ doing in my daughter's dress?"

"Father, please," Gabriel said. "This is the daughter of Morgan Sullivan. Remember the story I told you? This is Miss Camille Quartermaine, the heir to the treasure along with the Thatchers," he explained.

Maximilian looked at him fiercely. "How many times have I told you to forget that rubbish?" he hissed. "There is no such thing as a Diablo's Gate, and you're going to get a brain fever from making up these pirate stories!" he roared. "Now get upstairs and change for dinner, you good for nothing lazy boy!"

Camille's eyes widened as Gabriel shrank back a little. She could see he was quite used to these remarks, because he shook his head sadly and slumped his shoulders a bit, turning to make his way upstairs. She began following him, but Maximilian grabbed her roughly by the arm.

"Ouch!" she cried out, trying to loosen herself from his steel grip.

"And you," he said, getting close to her face. "If you ever touch my dear Gretchen's belongings again there's going to be another murder for the police to deal with, you wretched tramp," he threatened before releasing her.

She stood there. Another murder? Had the missing maid been _murdered _by someone? Her blood ran cold all of a sudden. Staying in this house no longer seemed like a good idea. She rushed to change, noticing that it had begun to rain outside.

When she made her way back downstairs she could still hear Gretchen going on about how Camille had had the gall to wear her beautiful things, and how she had probably tainted them. "I mean, who the hell does that bloody whore think she is, breaking into _my_ room and taking _my_ things?" she demanded.

"Oh please, Gretchen, the clothes were lying in the middle of the hallway like they do every morning when you throw your daily tantrums. Besides, I told her to take one," Gabriel said calmly.

"What? You did? How could you!" An appliance could be heard hitting the floor.

"Oh, come off it, Gretchen. You're just jealous because she looks better in it than you do."

Camille laughed out loud, causing a few heads to turn in the kitchen. That comment had shut Gretchen right up.

The next day she was to go into town and buy material, because Priscilla wanted a new dress to wear to her the dinner party that week and none of the ones in the stores were petite enough for her small figure. Camille gratefully accepted this assignment, once again thankful that she had not yet had to deal with Gretchen's morning tantrums (as opposed to dealing with her midmorning, early afternoon, midafternoon, early evening, etc.)

She shopped as slowly as she could, taking her time perusing through the lovely and delicate fabrics like she had never had the chance to do before. She was just leaving the tailor's shop when she felt a slight brush against her backside.

Whipping around, she could see a man running past her. "Hey!" she called, taking her shoes off and hiking her skirts up. "Get back here, you little thief!" she shouted, running after him.

This surprised the man. He had not been expecting a woman laden down with material to be so fast, but she remained right on his tail until she was able to tackle him and wrestle her change purse back from him. Then she smacked him upside the head.

"You should know better than to take money from a lady," she scolded, getting back up and brushing herself off. She had attracted quite a crowd with her stunt, and she picked up her things. "What are you all looking at?" she demanded. Everyone turned back to minding their own business as Camille walked home barefoot.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, Master Thatcher," Camille apologized profusely as she made it in the door. "Some man decided to rob me in the marketplace, and I had to chase him down to get back the pounds you gave me," she explained, wiping off her feet and taking off her bonnet.

"Camille, what happened to your shoes?" Maximilian asked, focusing on her feet instead of her story.

But she didn't notice. She took the basket, and began making her way to the sewing room. "I took them off in order to catch the thief. A woman can't run with heels on, you know," she said, dropping the basket into the arms of the women who were sewing.

She turned around and almost ran into Maximilian. He was glaring down at her. "Do you have any idea how expensive shoes are to buy, Camille?" he asked in a threatening tone.

"Yes I do, but it's not like you don't have the money to buy another pair. Excuse me," she said, brushing past him. He followed her, huffing, and so did some of the maids. "Besides, I could probably just wear a pair of Gretchen's I'm sure she's got hundreds she doesn't wear," Camille continued on, not noticing that all of the servants were looking at her.

Maximilian got closer to her, grabbed her, and smacked her squarely in the face as soon as she turned around. Camille fell right to the ground from the force of the slap, crying out.

"You will NEVER hold that tone of voice with me again, young lady!" Maximilian thundered, pulling her back up to her feet. "Do I make myself clear?" he demanded. His grip around her was so tight, she felt as if her wrists would crumble.

"Stop that, you're hurting me!" she pleaded, trying to wriggle free from his powerful grip. "Let me go!" she cried, kicking at him. But this only made his grip tighter. She began crying, begging him to stop.

The rest of the servants made absolutely no movement whatsoever. They were all either watching or listening, afraid that their own movements might attract the master's attention.

"Penelope, get me a switch!" he hollered, and the girl ran out the door as fast as she could, nearly tripping on the way. Maximilian had Camille pinned to the ground now, and as Penelope returned Gabriel followed her in.

"Father, what are you doing?" he asked as he came into the room where Camille was being held down. Maximilian took the switch from the girl as she retreated. Gabriel ran to him. "Let her go!" he cried. "Father!"

Maximilian just gave an angry cry, and threw his son off him with insurmountable strength. Gabriel flew straight back into a cupboard full of china, shattering all of the contents of it and landing on his face among the glass.

Maximilian began to beat Camille until she stopped screaming and kicking. He straightened up, adjusting his wig and throwing the stick on the ground. "The next time, Miss Quartermaine, that you wish to undermine my rules, I implore you to reconsider," he said with a deadly calmness to his voice before walking out. The servants went back to their business as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. After all, each and every one of them had been through the same thing. The new girl would learn her lesson quickly now.

Camille lay there, trying to summon the strength to get up. It hurt to cry, and so she simply let the tears stream down her face without any sobbing at all. Her body felt broken, and when she finally was able to sit up she looked over at Gabriel. He was on his hands and knees, staring into the pieces of glass. Blood was all over his hands and face, but that didn't seem to bother him. He looked back at her, and without a word she could see that there was a mutual understanding between the both of them. They were trapped.


	48. Whipping

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC

Chapter 48: Whipping

It was very painful, but Camille finished up her duties before sneaking a hot bath that night. She didn't care how many beatings would come of using hot water for herself, she basked in the tub and let her hair down.

She jerked up as the door opened. She wasn't ready to be discovered just yet. But it was only the boy. His eyes widened and his stumbled over his words, trying to apologize.

"Oh, my God. I-I'm sorry, I meant no…" he stuttered, beginning to back out.

But she laughed. "Oh Gabriel, it's only you. Don't be shy, I won't bite."

He hesitantly slipped back in, shutting the door. But he kept averting his eyes from her direction.

"Oh, come now, it's not like you've never seen a woman naked. We're all the same, I can assure you," she said, washing her legs.

Gabriel's face turned an interesting shade of red as she realized that he was as innocent as them come. "You're joking," she said, standing up. "Well, what do you think?"

"Miss Camille, that's really not necessary," he said, hiding his eyes.

She laughed, drying herself off and putting on a simple robe. "I'm a pirate, love. I have no shame now. But you must ache terribly from this afternoon. Get in, it'll relax you."

He looked at her hesitantly, and she could see that he was a proper gentleman. "Come on, now. It's still nice and hot for you. Goodnight, Master Gabriel," she said, letting herself out. She sighed, leaning against the door. Handsome.

Over the next few days, she obeyed every order given to her. Things went very smoothly, because she occupied herself with the cleaning so that she would never have to speak to Maximilian or tend to Gretchen's constant needs.

But she did get the pleasure of meeting little Priscilla. Camille barely saw the small girl, because she was always with her tutor or at a friend's house. She was a lovely little child, no older than Sheila was. Her hair was lighter than Gretchen's, and that day Camille was to curl it in those beautiful curls that women always wore.

She was very good to Priscilla, tending to her every whim because she was terrified of being beaten again. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that the only reason people actually worked in this house was the fear of being beaten. And she was all about putting a stop to that. A man who beat women should never be allowed to keep his dignity or show his face in public.

"Ouch! You're pulling at my hair!" Priscilla screamed. At the same time Camille was doing her hair, she was having her dress made for her. So several servants were buzzing around her, having hairpins and pincushions thrown at them.

"It's almost time for supper, go faster!" Priscilla demanded, kicking at a maid who was pinning up her dress.

"Well the more you keep wiggling, the longer it is going to take," Camille said in a low voice.

All the servants stopped and looked at her. Apparently, it was a high crime to speak back to a Thatcher in this household. Priscilla looked up at Camille, her blue eyes flaring. "What did you say to me?"

"I said stop squirming, you little brat!" Camille said, raising her voice.

Priscilla took a clump of Camille's hair and yanked on it. Camille screamed angrily, and in turn took some of the girl's hair and pulled on it. She wailed. "Ah! You can't tell me what to do, you're not my mother!" she cried, tears burning her eyes.

Camille loosened her grip, but still held the hair. "You're absolutely right, I am not your mother. So I see no problem with breaking your little legs, you selfish brat," she said through her teeth.

It worked. She saw Priscilla's eyes glaze over in fear. Camille straightened up. "Now, hold still or one of us will stick a pin in you," she said. The servants went back to their tailoring, and the girl stood still the last five minutes.

Camille went downstairs with the others, getting the food and bringing it out on several silver platters. Camille was feeling very confident, and she smiled at little Priscilla as she placed her meal in front of her. "Here you are, darling," she said sweetly. Maximilian watched her carefully, looking to reprimand her for anything she did wrong. Gabriel was polite as always, but Gretchen…

Of course, there was no pleasing "Her Majesty". "Potatoes!" she screeched. "I hate potatoes! Bring me the next course," she said, throwing her entire plate of food against the wall.

Calmly, Camille stepped right over the pile of food. "Now Gretchen, Susannah worked very hard to make that meal and I doubt she's going to the stove again just for your sake. So you'd better pick that up and eat what you've got," she said smartly, knowing this would get her a whipping.

Right on cue, Maximilian stood up, his chair scraping against the floor as Gretchen put her head in her hands and began weeping. Priscilla sat very still, not saying a word. And Gabriel was warily getting up, keeping his eyes on his father.

"That does it. Out back, Camille!" Maximilian said in his earsplitting voice.

She obeyed, not batting an eyelash. Of course, the entire household had heard this, and they were now either hanging out of windows or pushing their way outside to see what the new girl had done this time.

Maximilian had a whip in one hand, and Camille stood outside in the back of the house as the Thatcher children looked on. Priscilla held onto Gretchen's dress, and Gabriel just stood there. That whip would kill the girl.

But Camille didn't seem afraid. Either she wasn't, or she was able to act well. She looked at Maximilian with her arms crossed in front of her chest. "Is this what we get when we don't give in to your daughters' petty needs?" she asked.

Maximilian cracked the whip once in the air, causing everyone except Camille to jump. She began approaching him, and he flicked his wrist in her direction as some covered their eyes and others looked on, prepared for the woman's shrill cry of terror. But it never came.

All three of the Thatcher children had covered their eyes, and when they dared to peek they saw their father with a shocked look on his face. Camille was at one end of the whip. It was wrapped tightly around her arm, and she was pulling on the end looking as cool as ever.

Gretchen cried out in surprise. "Impossible!"

Camille paid them no attention, and pulled the sniveling Maximilian closer to her. Then she slapped him. It echoed in the gigantic property that surrounded them. "You had better start respecting women a bit more. How do you think you were brought into this world in the first place?" she asked him quietly.

He stuttered over syllables, not knowing how to react to her. She snatched the whip out of his hands and flung it on the ground. She passed him, and he finally turned around, pointing at her. "You!" he managed to say. "You…"

She turned around slowly. "Haven't I gotten through to you yet?" she asked impatiently. "I've got to get some sleep before your lovely daughters need the dirt picked from underneath their fingernails tomorrow."

Maximilian held his tongue and decided to let her walk away. Camille went inside, with everyone looking after her. She made her way up to her quarters and undressed.


	49. Gabriel's Awakening

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC

A/N: This chapter has another sex scene at the end of it, but it's pretty mild compared to my last one, still if you don't want to read it, just stop reading it when he starts kissing her.

Chapter 49: Gabriel's Awakening

She was sitting comfortably in her bed, wondering how Maximilian would treat her that day. It was the day of the dinner party, and if he knew what was good for him he would go out of his way not to upset her. Because if he did, she was sure to throw a scene in front of all the guests.

The day passed quicker than usual, and Camille wasn't bothered by any of the Thatchers, not even Gabriel. She did everything, causing no trouble or quarrels with anyone. She helped dress the girls and do their hair, and set the table and finished decorating. When the guests began arriving, she was very polite to them before slipping away out back. She hugged her knees to her chest, all of a sudden missing Jack.

It was a moment like this one where he would most likely take her somewhere away from the crowd to get good and drunk, and she missed that. She didn't know what Jack was to her anymore, but she had never really known. She and Jack had never really been stable in any aspects, and she assumed it was because in the back of their minds they both knew that they were too different for each other.

She sighed inwardly, looking at the sky, trying to pick out the stars as they were appearing. "Good evening, Camille." Gabriel was making his way across the lawn.

"Shouldn't you be attending your dinner party?" she asked him.

"And spending time with people who enjoy the façade of my family?" she shook his head. "I would rather do anything else."

She laughed. "Have a seat, I was just counting the stars."

He took the invitation and seated himself next to her. "Does the sky look much different when you are at sea?" he asked.

"Oh, yes. You can see every inch of the sky for miles, and the sky blends right into the water since everything is pitched black."

He looked up thoughtfully. "Someday I hope to know what that's like."

"Perhaps," she said.

"I've been meaning to ask you something. Your name…it's French."

"Yes, it is."

"Aren't you Irishborn?"

"Yes, but only my mother's side was Irish. My father wasn't, and I was named after his great Aunt Camille, simply because my mother knew too many Camerons and Caitlyns."

Gabriel looked at her. "I see."

Camille could sense some tension in the young man, and she could see that he was trembling. She was about to ask him if he was cold, but he stood up. "Well, I suppose I should get back to my dinner party."

She nodded slowly, trying to figure out his sudden contradiction. "Yes, I suppose you should."

"Goodnight, Camille."

"Goodnight, Gabriel," she said as she parted with him just after entering through the front door.

She longed for a decent book to read, but could find nothing of any interest. Didn't the people in this house read? Perhaps Gabriel had some literature, since he was such a decent person. She leaned over the banister, trying to find him below. Sure enough, she spotted him. He seemed to be in the middle of a conversation between two older men, and he looked occupied for the time being.

She took this opportunity to sneak quietly to his room, light a candle, and browse among the bookshelves. She found herself engrossed in merely reading the titles, not being able to decide which one she wanted to read first. There were so many great authors on this shelf…

She gasped as the doorknob turned and the young master came in, giving her a surprised look. She stood up. "I am so sorry Gabriel, I came in to borrow a book to read and I just became so caught up in looking at all of the titles," she apologized quickly. "I was going to ask you, I swear."

Gabriel tossed his hat on a nearby table and began taking his boots off. "There's no need to apologize. A woman of your intelligence is always welcome here," he said warmly.

She smiled. "Thank you so much. I appreciate it," she said, finally deciding on a title and plucking it off the shelf. "Goodnight again, Gabriel." As she got closer to the door, Gabriel spoke up.

"Camille, wait," he said.

She turned around. "Yes?"

He made his way up to her, shutting the door and blocking her exit. He scratched his head, looking up at her as he brought his hand down around the back of his neck. After a moment or two, he was able to make eye contact with her. "I can't stop thinking about you," he confessed.

Her eyes flew wide open. "Me?" she asked innocently. She thought it had been the other way around. "I'm just a servant girl," she said, putting the book down.

"No you're not, you're a Sullivan, you're a courageous woman. And you're a pirate. And you stood up to my father. No man has ever done that, not even my grandfather."

"Well, I'm not going to let the man go on mistreating and spoiling women!" she reasoned. "The bastard had it coming."

"I want you."

She stopped her rant. "What?" she asked incredulously.

"I need you, I have to have you. Just once. Just once, and then I promise I'll never ask for another favor from you. You are so beautiful, you're so kind and sweet and caring…Camille, you must say yes."

She narrowed her eyes at him. A gorgeous young man, pleading her for one night of passion? While she was looking for the perfect thing to do to get back at Jack Sparrow?

"Yes."

He kissed her, deeply. The candle had burned out, and the room was dark now. He groped her steadily, not sure where to put his hands on her. She had realized a while back with the bathtub incident that he was a virgin, and she patiently guided his hands along her body.

With her help, they took each other's clothes off and climbed into bed. He wanted to slip inside her immediately, but she pushed him off. "Not yet, love. You need to work your way inside a woman first," she whispered, putting his hand down between her legs. "Gently."

He did this, and she loved it. Foreplay had always been her favorite part of sex, and if it was done long enough she could have an immense orgasm. But that often took time and energy on her part, and she was much too excited. She moved back and forth, moaning as Gabriel put his mouth over her rising nipples.

His tongue went back and forth quickly across them, and she pulled him down on top of her. He grunted as he went inside her, and kissed her again, pulling back a bit when she bit his lip gently. He began moving, pressing her against the mattress. Her legs were up in the air, and the sheets tumbled off onto the floor as he spread them.

"Tell me when you're ready," she said. He nodded, and began to move back and forth. It didn't take too long, and the bed seemed like it was going to break into pieces from all of the movement.

Gabriel was very aggressive, and a bit too rough on her. But she climaxed anyway, though it was a bit painful afterwards. She let him lay his head on her chest when they were done, and his breathing slowed as she ran her hand through his hair.

"That…was indescribable," he breathed, his head rising and falling with her breathing.

She grinned. "I'm glad you liked it. How old are you anyway, Gabriel?"

"18."

"18? I thought you looked a bit older than that."

Gabriel lifted his head and looked down at her. "I know I have no right to ask this, but how old are you?"

"I'm 25," she answered casually before lifting her head and kissing him. He balanced himself on his elbows and made out with her for a few minutes before positioning himself in the bed next to her. His hand fell on one of her breasts, and he hesitantly lifted it.

"Uhm, do you mind if I…?"

"Hm?" she said, reaching over him to get the covers that had fallen off during the extravaganza. "Oh of course, go right ahead. D'you like them?"

"Camille, they're perfect. Your entire body is perfect," he said before kissing her again.


	50. The Catch

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC

Chapter 50: The Catch

For the next several nights they continued this pattern, and every time Gabriel became a little more experienced. Other than that, the two of them were merely friends.

Priscilla and Gretchen continued throwing their tantrums, but whenever Camille was present a strange silence would be cast around them and all of the petty bickering and yelling would cease until she was out of the room.

As for Camille, she had been enjoying herself these past few weeks. The days putting fear into everyone's hearts, the nights spent with young Master Gabriel, and the unexplained absence of Master Thatcher were all too perfect. But with this perfection came a perfect loneliness, as well.

As time passed, an emptiness just welled up inside her. She longed for the _Pearl,_ for the chores, the sea, and Jack. Most of all she wanted the daring, backstabbing, yet entertaining captain to be by her side once more. She wanted to fall for him, to be used by him; and she hated herself for it.

She could not take it anymore. The rain was falling hard, and the lightning was flashing. But she couldn't take the confinement of the house anymore. She put on her trousers and blouse, made sure the key was safely in her pocket before lacing up her boots, and made her way downstairs. She didn't have to worry about leaving any kind of note. Gabriel would understand. She had confided her emptiness to him alone.

As she tied her bandana on, she heard a harsh knocking downstairs at the door. Making her way downstairs, she could see one of the maids, Jocelyn, approaching the door to answer it. But something wasn't right. It was much too late for any visitor to be calling on the house.

"Jocelyn, don't!" she called out, but the door was already open. One gunshot later, she was lying face down in a pool of her own blood. Camille clapped her hand over her mouth to avoid shrieking, creeping stealthily back up the stairs as the men made their way into the house.

Everyone had heard the noise, and servants and Thatchers alike were all waking up and coming out of their rooms. Maximilian was the first one out. "What's all this noise?" he demanded, making his way past Camille as she tried to stop him. "We are trying to sleep!" he said boldly, making his way downstairs.

Priscilla and Gretchen came out of their rooms next. "What's going-" Gretchen asked before Camille put her hand over her mouth.

"Sh!" she said. She could see Gabriel at the other end of the hallway, coming with loaded pistols. The girls looked at him in surprise, and then leaned over the banister as their father finished descending the staircase. "Oh, my God," she whispered.

The house was dark, and Maximilian made his way to the front hall. The gentlemen, she could now see clearly by their behavior that they were pirates, paid no attention to him as they continued through the doorway. And before dear Maximilian Thatcher could find his deafening voice, they shot him in the head.

Gretchen and Priscilla screamed, and Gabriel jumped. The pirates looked up as Camille pulled them away towards the nearest room. Servants were now screaming and running everywhere, and more gunshots could be heard ringing out.

"Father!" Priscilla screamed. Gabriel picked her up and carried her with them as Camille locked the door and pushed heavy furniture against it.

"The window, onto the roof!" she directed as she followed them. She made it past them, climbing steadily out the window and outside into the pouring rain.

Gretchen hesitantly followed her, shaking with fear. Next, Gabriel made his way out with Priscilla, who was still crying. Camille looked for a low place in the roof where they could easily reach the ground. She could hear the pirates in the room now, and leaped gracefully across the top of the house like a cat. She was finally able to find a spot that dropped just behind the house as one of the pirates made his way out the window and onto the roof.

Gretchen shrieked, but Camille leapt off and signaled for her to follow. Gretchen did so hesitantly, but Camille was able to catch her. Priscilla was next, and she closed her eyes as Gabriel dropped her into the redhead's arms. He jumped down with minimal difficulty.

They were now behind the house. Camille ducked beneath some bushes, looking inside. She could see no movement, and waved them in as she locked the door behind them. Gretchen was shaking and shivering, and Priscilla was trying her best not to cry. Camille searched the house, as focused as ever. "All right, here's the plan. There's no escaping unless we eliminate some of these pirates. So hide somewhere until I give the signal."

Gabriel nodded and led his sister away, as Camille took Priscilla to the dining room. There was a space between a very large cabinet that was filled with china and other breakable objects. That would do perfectly. She and the little girl squeezed back into the small space.

Priscilla's breathing was rapid and shallow, and Camille tried hard to listen for anyone who reentered the house. She put her hand on Priscilla's shoulder. "It's all right, Priscilla. I won't let anything happen to you, dear," she promised the small child.

Priscilla was still scared, but she swallowed and nodded, starting when the two of them heard rough voices.

"I think they was in here, wasn't they?"

"Better check all of the rooms again."

Camille could hear footsteps approaching, and listened very carefully, placing her hand over the child's mouth. Priscilla went rigid as the voices got so close, they sounded like they were just in front of the girls.

Camille released Priscilla and put both of her feet on the back of the cabinet, pushing with all of her might. It came falling down on top of the two men with a loud crash that erupted throughout the house. After that, she heard a gun go off and prayed that it had been Gabriel's. She took Priscilla's arm and led her out of the dining room where three more men stood. "Don't look, child," she commanded as she took out her cutlass and killed all three of them easily.

She again took Priscilla's hand gently and led her back into the main hall, closing the door. "Gabriel?" she called. "Gretchen? Where are you?"

No reply. Camille felt like panicking. Priscilla followed her silently up the staircase as she continued to call out. "Gabriel? Are you still in the house?" She kept the girl close behind her, shielding her from any person who decided to suddenly jump out among them.


	51. Long John Silver

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. And Robert Louis Stevenson gets the credit for the character of Long John Silver, though I have toyed with him a bit, as well. Teehee.

Chapter 51: Long John Silver

Camille unsheathed her sword, holding it out in front of her to look at the reflections. They stopped outside Gretchen's room. There were clothes and furniture strewn about everywhere, and for once it was not because one of her famous tantrums.

She held Priscilla close to her, searching the room for anything. She kicked the door, making sure that no one was hiding behind it. The room was empty, so they tried Priscilla's. Empty as well.

They both went across the hall to Gabriel's room, and Camille had to steady her hand a bit from holding the sword at eye level for so long. But sure enough, they were both standing there with swords to their throats. She looked at them, placing one hand on her hip. "Are you really planning on killing us? You need us alive," she stated.

"But we only need one Thatcher," one of them stated.

Priscilla held onto Camille's trousers. Camille put her sword down. "Point taken." It looked like there was no way out of this. She bit her lip, thinking for a second. "D'you have the map?"

They looked at each other, and Gabriel looked at her like she'd just gone insane. But she winked at him as he produced the map. One of the pirates greedily snatched it out of his hand, and they were forced downstairs, through the rain, and onto a life boat towards an incredibly horrid-looking boat.

While they were rowing, one of the pirates lunged for Gretchen, pinning her to the bottom of the boat as she screamed. Gabriel tried to protest, but a pistol was held to his head. Camille's eyes widened, and she instinctively put her hands over Priscilla's ears and made the child look towards the sea. She began singing, and her voice got louder as Gretchen's screams and cries got louder.

Finally it was over, and Gretchen just lay at the bottom of the boat crying softly, curled up in a ball. Camille released Priscilla, but the child still clung to her. Nothing could have prepared Camille for what she was going to encounter once aboard this ship.

They climbed onto the deck, and Camille's weapons were taken from her immediately, along with any remaining pistols that Gabriel had. Gretchen dropped to her knees, whimpering and still crying, her entire body shaking. Camille stood in front of her and Priscilla, with Gabriel next to her. The rain was letting up some, but the ship still rocked back and forth violently. Even Camille had to steady herself a bit, trying to get her sea legs back. She reached out to steady Gabriel, who was having trouble standing up.

A cabin door opened, and the one legged man appeared. He was as steady as ever on just one leg, and this made Camille stand up a bit straighter. He approached them, though keeping his distance. Upon seeing Camille, he burst out laughing. And for as cruel and twisted at the man's heart was, he had a most jovial laugh. This made him all the more terrifying as he stood there, guffawing.

Camille stood her ground, patiently waiting for Long John to speak. And he did, finally. "So, Miss Quartermaine, it's you that be the heir to the treasure at Diablo's Gate. I never would ha' thought it," he chuckled. He put his hand out and looked up. "It be a bit wet, don't it?" he said, looking at her.

He looked at his colleagues. "Those three…in the brig. Get the map. Miss Quartermaine, if you will," he said, signaling her to follow him into his cabin.

She did, and her heart nearly broke when she was Jack lying in a heap at the foot of his desk. He was waving his arms about, singing or at least attempting it. She couldn't understand a word that came out of his mouth.

"Get up, you buffoon," Long John said, stepping over him and taking a seat at his desk. "Keep drinkin' like that an' ye'll drain the whole bloody ship. Ain't nothin' worse than sober pirates, don't ye agree Quartermaine?"

Jack focused a little at the name "Quartermaine". He moved his head, sitting up and swooning. "Where am I?" he slurred.

She shook her head, looking pitifully at him. "Oh, Jack."

He looked in her direction, and though it took his eyes awhile to get past her breasts, he finally saw that it was her. "Cam…Cate? Cameron? Camden, is that you, love?"

Camille rolled her eyes. "I'll deal with you later. I don't deal with scallywags until they're sober enough to remember the beating that I give them," she spat.

Long John looked at her, amused. "You're goin' to be waitin' quite a long time, missy. Dear Jack has been drinkin' for weeks on end now. Wouldn't be surprised if the man's innards had melted by now."

"You are not to harm those three," Camille said, getting right to the point.

Long John leaned forward in his chair, grinning like an idiot. "And why do you think I wouldn't, lass?"

"Because if you do, then I won't tell you where I've hidden Jack's key."

Long John's face went blank, and he leaned over the side of the desk and looked at his ally. "Jack, where'd you put the key?" he asked plainly.

"The key?" Jack said, pulling himself up to a standing position. "What key?"

"The key to Diablo's Gate," Long John said tiredly, rolling his eyes.

"The key? Ah, the key!" Jack finally realized. "It's right here in my pocket," he said, digging around in his coat and almost falling over in the process. "No, it's not in there. Where did I bloody put it?" he asked, patting himself down.

Camille cleared her throat. "Jack…Jack! I have the key. I stole it from you," she said, clearly enunciating her words.

"You…you stole my key?" Jack said. "But I had it. You…you whore, you!" he insulted her slowly.

She chewed on her lip. Nothing about this man could possibly surprise her anymore. She turned back to Silver, who seemed almost tolerable compared to this. "Yes, I stole the key from Jack. And if you want to know where it is, then the four of us are to remain unharmed until the Gate is opened."

Long John grimaced, but nodded. "Aye," he nodded.

But Camille put her hand up. "I'm not done, Captain. By 'unharmed' I mean…" and she began counting off on her fingers, "we are not to be raped, hit, beaten, tortured, starved, dragged in the water, stranded on any islands, made to walk the plan-"

Long John put his hand up. "You've made your point, Quartermaine. You drive a hard bargain, though. If worse comes to worse, I can just cut off the parts o' you that I be needin' to open that Gate."

"Yes, I bet you will," she said, glancing again at Jack and sighing heavily. Her heart was heavy as she was shown to the brig, and locked in the cell with the Thatchers.


	52. Emotional Turbulence

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Or LJS.

Chapter 52: Emotional Turbulence

That night was a long one, and they were all cold and hungry. But as promised, they were fed a decent breakfast in the morning before Camille was again let out of the brig and into Long John's cabin.

"Do you want to know the real reason for your mother's-" he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "For God's sake, what is it, man!" he demanded, shouting and banging his crutch on the floor.

The door opened, and there stood, to the reader's enjoyment, a naked Captain Jack Sparrow. I'll give you a moment to let that sink in. deep breath Ahhhh. Camille just looked at him. Long John slapped his forehead, pulling at his face.

"Good morning, starshine!" Jack sang in his raspy singing voice. "You know John…" he staggered back a little. "I-I can't remember what I'm about to say…but someday you'll know. And when the time is right, I'll know," he made motions with his hands, "and then this will all come together…you know? D'you see what I'm sayin' to you, mate…matey-mate-mate? Mate?"

Camille wanted to laugh so badly, but she was still so angry at him. "Hello, Little Jack," she said as she glanced down and back up.

"Little Ja-" he began, swooning around. "I'll have you know tha' this is an impressive package for my age," he said, shaking his finger at her.

"Yes, I suppose it is quite impressive for a 50-year-old man," she retorted.

"Fifty?" Jack asked in a high voice. "I'll 'ave you know that I'm not a day over nineteen."

Camille almost began laughing. Her mouth hurt from trying so hard not to. Here she was, in the middle of what was supposed to be the most dangerous and threatening situation of her life so far, and Jack was talking to her naked. It was hilarious. Jack stumbled off, singing to himself.

Camille turned back to Silver as if nothing had happened. "You were saying, Captain?" she asked, so seriously that it threw Long John into a short state of confusion.

"Yes…well, er…" then he cleared his throat, remembering where he had left off. "Do you want to know the real reason for your mother's death, Miss Quartermaine?"

"You mean, other than the fact that she died protecting the treasure from fiends such as yourself and Jack?"  
"Your father was a fool, young missy," he said, his eyes positively ablaze now. "Morgan was a thief and a liar, and a grand one at that. She conducted all of her misdoings right under the man's nose."

"You have quite a way of twisting your words, Captain Silver," she interrupted calmly. "All women are thieves and liars, if you haven't already found that out for yourself."

"Quite true, that is. Quite true, Miss Camille," Long John said without even the slightest hint of irritation in his voice. "But you be severely overlookin' one mundane detail."

"The only detail that I need to know, is that you need us _alive_ to help you to Diablo's Gate," she replied cleverly, and she could finally see a tiny flicker of annoyance in Long John's eyes.

But the tone of his voice remained steady. "As soon as that gold be in my pockets, ye'll be no better off than your mother's rottin' corpse at the bottom o' the oceans."

She narrowed her eyes, leaning closer to him. "I can't wait for death to come and relieve me from this hell," she hissed before getting up and leaving his cabin. She was furious, and her anger at Jack was only feeding the fire. Speaking of Jack…

"Camille!" his hand (clothed now) reached out from behind a corner and she jumped back, more in anger than surprise that he was not drunk. "Camille darling, you must listen to me," he said.

"You want me to listen to you? I've listened to your lies and played your game long enough!" she exploded, slapping his hand away and causing the fearless leader to shrink back. "You tricked me, Jack Sparrow. I let you…" she said slowly, shaking her finger at him. "I let you into my house; into my life! I let you meet my father…and what for? So you can have your bloody treasure! And then when I finally get a chance to see you to ask you what the hell is going on, you're so stinking drunk that you can't stand or even say my name! You want me to listen to you, Jack Sparrow? You listen to this: I NEVER liked your ship!" she ended, her voice reverberating off the sails like a powerful gust of wind.

Jack's eyes widened, and then narrowed dangerously. The woman had gone too far, insulting his _Pearl;_ insulting his life. "You wouldn't dare," he said, he said, putting his face right in front of hers.

"Oh, yes I would. And you come any closer to me I will throw you off this damned ship. And you can swim around in the sea until your tacky, worn down, ugly little _Black Pearl_ decides to pick you up because-"

He smacked her. He let go and just _backhanded_ her, sending her flying backwards with blood seeping from her mouth. She looked back at him with cold, hating eyes and he knew that their skirmish had definitely gone too far this time. This was no longer an act. They had carried it past its limit, and now it was over.

She wiped her mouth, taking the key out of her pocket and setting it down at Jack's feet. "Take it, Sparrow," she said coldly before getting up. "I never want to speak to you again," she said before going down into the brig.

Jack looked at the small key, bending over to pick it up as he glanced at the empty spot where Camille had been sitting up. He straightened up. He had not been drunk last night or this morning. But tonight…tonight he was going to drink until he stopped breathing.


	53. Cracking the Pirate's Code

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Or LJS.

Chapter 53: Cracking the Pirate's Code

Camille cried, along with Gretchen and Priscilla. But not because she was scared; she cried over Jack Sparrow. The man had caused her a great deal of pain, not only physically but mentally. And it was nobody's fault but her own. Jack had told her from the very beginning that he was an apathetic, conniving pirate. It hadn't been his fault she had fallen so hard for him. No, it was her own. But she still hated Jack for using her.

They sat in that cell for days before the one legged pirate came down again. He looked maniacally at the four unfortunate young people. None of them made any effort to move when he entered, except of course, for Camille.

Long John snorted. "Still as bold as ever, Quartermaine," he jeered, poking at her with his crutch through the bars.

She pushed it away. "What do you want? And you haven't been keeping your end of the bargain either, we've gone two days without food."

"My dear, I would hardly call two days _starving_. You and I seem to have very different perceptions of that word."

"So it would seem."

"The ship will be weighin' anchor very shortly. You have any last wishes you'd like me leave unfulfilled?"

"That doesn't even make sense," she retorted angrily. "And it is going to be you who is lying on your back, looking up at us when this is over," she said bravely. Thank God for those metal bars, though. She could certainly talk big, but just like her first conversation with Jack she had been scared stupid.

As Long John left the brig muttering things like "wretched woman" under his breath, she slumped down against the side of the wall. _Jack_. The very sound of his name made her want to wretch. _I guess this is why I haven't read any stories about women falling in love with pirates_, she thought bitterly. He had…talked to her; about his childhood, about his past, his adventures at sea. And he was interesting. Plus he'd been-well, he'd _feigned_ interest in her. She couldn't help but sob softly again.

Little Priscilla snuggled up against her, trying to comfort her. "I'm sorry, Miss Camille," she said.

"Thank you, darling," Camille choked. Neither Gretchen nor Gabriel said a thing. They didn't want to ask the burning question: What had gone on between Camille and Jack?

Camille quit crying after a bit, and began adjusting her position in the cell. "Ouch!" she cried as something jabbed her in the side.

Gabriel glanced over. "What is it?"

Camille sighed, pulling out the poetry of William Wordsworth. "It's this damned book," she said, tossing it aside. When she did, a small piece of parchment flew out.

The four grabbed at it, unfolding it carefully and reading it silently:

4/6

For Camille

The days wer simply wonderful,

and the nights in between,

stroking your cheek

burying my face in your hair, and

Losing all connekshion with the outside world,

and the memery of the constant hunger within

queled

By your beauty

your grace

your simlicity

These things would phail to catch the eye of the common man

But I see

that you stand right out

Right out agains a sea of wrongs

Washing, turning

against the tide of lonliness

that resedes

Gretchen finished reading first. "Well, the man's got a good heart. I'm afraid I can't say the same about his education, though. Just look at all those grammatical errors!" she pointed out.

"I think it's romantic," Priscilla said. "Besides, he can't be expected to spell every little world correctly, can he?"

Camille poured over the piece of parchment. It was without a doubt Jack's handwriting. But he was certainly a fairly well-educated man. She'd seen letters written by him before. "This is a code," she realized out loud. "All of the mistakes mean something," she continued. She looked around. "If only we had something to write with."

"Here's something!" announced Gabriel, revealing his pocketknife that he had hidden away when they had boarded the ship. "Go on, I'll carve it into the wood."

Camille, Gretchen, and Priscilla all put their heads together and found the mistakes, telling Gabriel the correct letters to carve.

"The first one is an 'e'. He left it off the end of 'were'."

"And the way that he spelled 'connection'. It should read 'c' and then 't'."

"Don't forget the 'o' in 'memory'!"

"'Quelled'. Shouldn't that have another 'l' in it?"

"'By your…simlicity'? He must have meant 'simplicity'. Put the letter 'p' up there."

"'Fail' should be with an 'f', not 'ph'."

"He's left off the 't' at the end of 'against'."

"And he skipped over the first 'e' in 'loneliness'."

"The last letter should be 'c', because he spelled 'recedes' wrong."

"Is that it?" Gabriel asked, carving out the last of the letters.

"I'm fairly certain," Camille said, looking the poem over twice more. "But what does it spell?"

But the letters didn't spell out a word. All that was carved into the wood before them were the letters in the order that they had been given to Gabriel.

ECTOLPFTEC

Gretchen sighed. "They must be scrambled. This could take a very long time."

"Well, it's not like we have much of a choice," Camille said. Her mind was already trying to make sense of the letters. But nothing came to mind. They were all baffled until Priscilla piped up.

"Look, it says that he wrote this poem in April. Was it for your birthday, Miss Camille?" she asked curiously.

Camille looked at the date scribbled in the top right hand corner of the parchment. It read "4/6". Her eyes widened. "Of course, it's so simple!" she exclaimed. "Four and six. The first word has four letters to it and the other has six!" she said.

Now that they knew it was two words instead of just one, their hope had been restored. Finally… "I've got it!" Gretchen announced triumphantly. "Unscrambled, the letters say 'Left Pocket'."

Only Camille and Gabriel wore trousers, and they both reached in at the same time. Camille brought out a set of keys, dumbfounded. They were the keys to the cells.

The rest cheered, but her heart sank. Jack had truly cared about her. He had been trying to protect her the whole time, giving her this chance to escape. But it was too late now. "I'm not going," she said shortly, killing the small celebration.

"But Camille, you must," Gabriel insisted. He unlocked the cell and stood up. "Look, we're free! We can take a lifeboat to shore, we can escape from Long John and Sparrow!"

"And what good would that do us? We'll still be on the same island as them," Camille insisted, not budging from her position in the cell.

"But we'll be alive. Please Miss Camille, come with us," Priscilla begged.

She shook her head. "I can't."

Gabriel looked at her sadly. "Camille, if this is about Jack…"

"No, it's not about him. This is about my mother. She died protecting that Gate, and I'm not going to run away now. It's my responsibility to get that key and guard the treasure."

Gretchen looked at Camille, finally understanding. She got back in the cell, and sat next to Camille. "I'm staying as well."

Camille looked up. "What? Gretchen, no. It's far too dangerous."

Gretchen looked back at them all stubbornly. "I'm in no more danger than you are," she stated.

"No, Gretchen come with us," Gabriel pleaded. "With one bloodline, the Gate can't be opened anyhow."

"He's right. I'll be fine. Now go," Camille said.

But Gretchen shook her head. "No, my mother was involved as well. Besides, I'm the oldest now, I've got to protect my siblings." She hugged Gabriel and Priscilla. "Now I want both of you to get into one of the lifeboats and row as fast as you can until you get to shore."

"Whatever you see or hear, don't make your presence know to anyone," Camille added. "I'll see to it that you see your sister again, I swear it," Camille said bravely. "Hurry, before somebody sees that you're out."

It took a lot of convincing, but finally Gabriel and Priscilla agreed to get into a lifeboat as Gretchen and Camille lowered them noiselessly into the water. There was a thick curtain of fog beginning to set, so it wasn't long until the little boat disappeared.

Camille shoved the ring of keys back into her pocket, putting her arm around Gretchen. "That was a very brave thing you did. And it's going to count for something, when the time comes," she said solemnly. She dropped the deciphered code into the water, for she had already memorized the words.

There was really no reason for them to go back to brig, since they were now on that pirate ship willingly. They both sat down on deck, and Gretchen was finally able to ask Camille about her and Jack. Camille took a deep breath, and was able to tell her the whole story. There were many times when the two of them would simply burst out laughing, but when it ended they were both holding each other, crying.


	54. The Rune

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Or LJS.

Chapter 54: The Rune

"What's all that noise?" Long John asked in his cabin with Jack. "Bloody hostages. Per'aps if we cut out their throats they could still open the Gate," he pondered aloud.

"Unlikely," Jack said distractedly. He was so drunk that he couldn't see straight, but his heart still ached for the girl. He wanted to explain everything to her, about John being the one who originally was to seduce Camille. But Jack had convinced his 'mate' that he was right for the job. And he had been, until he fell madly in love with the woman. He didn't think that she would ever forgive him, but she didn't have to. This would all be over soon enough.

"Jack!" John cried, pounding on the floor with his crutch.

Jack snapped from his drunken stupor. "Hm? Apologies. Mus' be the rum."

John eyed him warily. "That there redhead hasn't gone and made you soft, has she Jack?"

"Me? No!" Jack said, appalled. _She may have killed me, but that's not the same thing as being soft_, he added mentally. "D'you think I could be foolish enough to let a woman ruin my life?" He shook his head.

"So how is she, then?" John asked, testing Jack and reading his expression.

_Incredible_. "Camille? Eh," he said, waving his hand a bit as to say "so-so". "She is too sophisticated for my personal liking, to be honest. I consider myself a humble man who seeks out women of the same stature," he said, remembering to ramble a little bit so he'd seem more relaxed. But through all of this, his head was still spinning. "I think I'm gonna go lie down," he excused himself, stumbling across deck only to come face to face with the two women drying their eyes. "Bloody hell, now I'm seein' her everywhere," he said to himself.

Camille took Gretchen by the arm and led her away. "Come, let's get something to drink," she suggested before they disappeared below.

Just before landing, Long John had discovered the disappearance of half his party of hostages and gone into a bellowing rage. For, it wasn't important that Camille and Gretchen were the only ones needed for this operation. It was the fact that a woman had outsmarted him.

He was seething with fury by the time they landed that afternoon, and Jack was just waking up with the hangover of the century. Unfortunately for him, his liver hadn't given up just yet and he was worse than miserable.

But of course, Camille was leaning over the banister with the most interest in the fog-covered island they were approaching. It was immense, and as the fog parted little by little she could see trees for miles up ahead. She had never seen a forest, or a jungle of any sort. She stared at it, wide-eyed and amazed. "I'll bet this island doesn't even have a name," she mused.

Gretchen was right beside her, and her breathing started to get shallow. She was looking around, beginning to panic and regret her decision to stay behind. Camille looked back at her. "Don't faint on me now, I need you to help me on this one."

But Gretchen was already down for the count. Camille didn't even bother rushing to her side as she fainted. Rolling her eyes, she looked back out into the mist. "Women," she muttered. She heard a movement and whirled around. "Lay one finger on the girl Captain Silver, and I'll cut off your other leg."

"Well I suppose than you'll want to carry me to the treasure?" he shot back.

"Of course, Captain Silver. Apparently I'm a crutch-no pun intended-for weak men," she replied.

John laughed, and looked back at his hungover mate. "Are you so ready to give up a lioness like this one, Jack?"

But Jack only waved his hand. "Stop yelling," he said, his face looking very green.

Camille knelt next to Gretchen, lightly slapping her face. "Hey, wake up. You've got to pull yourself together, we're almost there," she said as she felt the ship beginning to stop.

Gretchen looked up tiredly, hoisting herself up to a sitting position. She still shuddered when she saw Long John or Jack, and she gripped Camille's arm. "Ouch!" Camille yipped. "You're hurting me, let go!"

But Gretchen didn't listen. Camille pulled up until she was standing, her knees about to buckle together. "Gretchen darling," she said in a low voice as the duo of captains (mostly John) got the lifeboat ready to descend into the layers of mist. "There's really nothing to be afraid of. All we have to do is go through the woods, find the Gate, and open it," she coaxed. "Don't even worry about these two, just leave them up to me, all right?" she said in a motherly tone. "Now come on, love. Into the boat," she said, holding her arm steady and helping her into the boat with the captains.

Gretchen was still shaking, but Camille kept her confident position as she took a pair of oars and began rowing along with Long John Silver. The island was beautiful, and the dark water became clearer as they came closer to the shore. It wasn't sandy, like beaches were. It had grass and ferns right up until the very edge when it touched the water, and Camille was the first one to scramble up on land. This place almost made her forget her deadly legacy that was about to take place.

"Oh my God," she breathed. "This place is enchanting." She looked back at Silver, who was tying the boat up. "Are you sure you don't want just split the treasure and live here?" she asked in a light tone.

Silver straightened up and looked at her. "I can guarantee you'll be dead in no less than three days, wench, no matter what terms we are on."

Camille made a face at him, trying not to pay any attention to Jack. She helped Gretchen up. "You know, you may want to think about losing that dress. It's going to be very cumbersome in a place like this."

But Gretchen just looked at her. "And what would I walk around in?"

"Your undergarments, darling," Camille said, smiling. "A petticoat is ample amount of clothing," she said reasonably.

"I will do no such thing," Gretchen said haughtily, and Camille felt her stomach turn for a moment. She was reminded of herself a little more than three years ago. This treasure hunt could turn into quite a tragedy. Especially if everyone was as stubborn as she thought herself to be.


	55. The Protectors

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Or LJS.

Chapter 55: The Protectors

They trekked until nightfall, when both Gretchen and Jack could go not further. Long John and Camille both gave in and set up a fire in the middle of the jungle. Camille sat with her back facing Jack, who was lying against a tree trunk. Across the fire in an uneasy silence sat Long John, leaning on his crutch and entranced by the fire. He was a very interesting man. He was friendly, and you could carry on a civil conversation with him. But at the same time he was the type of man who had been known to shoot you for looking at him funny. Something was not right with his head at all, and there was no doubt in her mind that if it weren't for the Gate she would be dead right now. But she was quite surprised that he hadn't even attempted to attack her or Gretchen. He did not threaten to harm them in any way, except verbally. Other than that, he seemed to have no particular interest in any type of involvement with a woman_. Perhaps he's gay,_ Camille thought, smiling at the thought.

"Don't do that," Long John said grumpily, noticing the woman's smile.

"Oh, come off it Long John," she said, referring to him by his name and not "Captain Silver" for the first time.

He simply looked at her. "You're a beastly woman Camille, did you know that?"

"Beastly? Who goes around killing people for tr-" she bit her tongue, knowing that she had just contradicted herself.

Long John chuckled. "Ah, a bit of a hypocrite, are we?" he said evilly.

She was silenced, and amidst the silence she thought she could hear the beating of drums. She listened harder, staring into the flames that almost licked her boots. Long John looked focused, as well. Perhaps he was hearing the same thing.

He looked at Camille, who looked back with the same puzzled look on her face. "Are those…?"

Camille stood up, taking a pistol that had been lying next to Long John. "Drums?" she finished, holding it out in front of her.

"Christ, can't a man get any reprieve around here?" Jack demanded, getting to his feet and pulling out his sword. Even Gretchen was awake now as the drums got closer. Voices could also be heard.

The four drew closer to the fire, and Gretchen gripped Camille's arm again with that iron grip that every Thatcher seemed to possess. All of a sudden, people poured out from the trees surrounding them. Everywhere, people. Women. They were all women.

Before they knew what was going on, Jack and John were immediately disarmed and their hands were bound behind their backs. Camille shook Gretchen off before they were surrounded. A beautiful, tan woman with black hair stepped forward. Her robes were very colorful, and she had red flowers throughout her hair.

She knelt before the two of them. "Welcome, Miss Thatcher and Miss Sullivan. My name is Inoke," she introduced herself.

Camille bowed. "It's very nice to meet all of you. My name is Camille, and this is Gretchen," she said politely. Inoke stood up, looking at John and Jack. "You have brought men to The Rune, why? They are enemies."

Camille nodded. "Yes, they are. There's a lot to explain," she said.

Inoke nodded. "Please, come back to our village with us. Tonight is cause for celebration. The prisoners will be dealt with," she said, taking Camille and Gretchen by the arm.

"Wait!" Gretchen said, stopping them. "They each have something that belongs to us. They each have a key."

Long John looked at the two of them, and the same flames that were at their feet seemed to be in his eyes. Camille shuddered. Something told her that he would do whatever it took to get those keys back. She swallowed, being truly afraid of him for the very first time.

Two more women stepped forward, searching them. The keys were found and handed to the women as all four of them were guided back. Inoke stayed close to Camille, whispering in her ear. "There are two others on the island. Are they with you?"

Camille nodded. "Yes, they are Thatchers."

The answer was enough to satisfy Inoke. They made it to their village, which was lit up and filled with music. Jack and John were lead to a heavily guarded tent and were not seen for the rest of the evening. Gretchen was given some much lighter clothing, and some was offered to Camille but she insisted on wearing her outfit.

They ate, drank and danced in celebration that night. Camille was quite relieved that the small village of women was residing on the island and protecting it. She explained the full story to Inoke and a group of others, about how they were prisoners and had had their keys stolen from them while being tricked to come to the island against their will. A heavy burden was lifted off her chest by then.


	56. Sweetest Goodbyes

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Or LJS.

Chapter 56: Sweetest Goodbyes

Jack was sitting in the tent, trying to untie himself. His hangover was gone by now, and his thought process was much more clairvoyant. It just wasn't right; any of this. Killing and raping innocent women, doing whatever it took just to get treasure. What good was it if there was no one to share it with? Now, he wanted that treasure on the other side of Diablo's Gate just as bad as Long John did. But more than that, he wanted Camille safe. And if she remained in this village she would not be. The ambush would be here any minute now.

John sat there, as content as ever. He made no attempt to escape, and shortly he could hear the cries of the women began as he tilted his head back and laughed. Jack cringed as he heard throats being cut and whatnot. There were terrified screams everywhere.

Camille looked on, horrified at the scene. She found Gretchen and had to slap the girl to stop her from going hysterical. "Gretchen! I want you to run. I'll catch up with you, just get out of here!" she ordered. The girl didn't waste any time.

Camille sprung into action, killing as many pirates as she could and fending them off the surviving women. But there were too many of them. Despite the fact that she had barely seen more than Long John and Jack on that ship, men now poured out from the trees around the village. And there was blood everywhere. It made her sick to her stomach.

She continued fighting, determined to save some of these women. But she was finally overpowered. Her sword was taken from her, and her pistol and bullets. Even the knives she hid inside her boots were fished out before she was forced kicking and screaming into the tent where Long John sat ever so calmly, acting like a king on his throne with Jack beside him.

She began sobbing. "You monster!" she cried, falling to her knees. "You bloody monster! How could kill those women? You're sick!" she screamed.

Jack bit his lip watching her. His heart was breaking seeing her in this much anguish. But Long John was a stone when it came to any emotions. He simply held out his hand. "I'll be takin' the treasure either way, Quartermaine," he said quite apathetically as Jack dropped her key into his hand.

She stood there, perplexed by John's lack of emotions. He truly was a heartless pirate. The kind she had read about, but not yet encountered until now. She tried to back away, but was held in place by a few other pirates. She gulped as he slowly began polishing off his pistol.

"You need me alive to do this," she said, trying to get it through his head. "You can't kill me if you want to open Diablo's Gate," she stuttered, realizing that this was it. She wasn't even going to get to see what she was protecting. She closed her eyes and thought of Will, Ana Maria, Annie and the children. "Oh God," she whispered, realizing that he was going to shoot her. She stiffened, and all the blood was drained from her face as Silver aimed for her.

Jack was watching, observing everything around her. If he had ever learned anything useful in his short life, it was that there was always another way out of a situation. And this time, he could see that with a bit of distraction all that Camille would have to do would be to simply take a pistol or sword and start running.

Long John was ruthless, though. It was going to be hard saving Camille's life without betraying him outwardly. But he had known long before this moment that he and Long John were one day going to kill each other over this. As long as Long John hadn't reached that same conclusion, then he had somewhat of a chance.

John cocked his pistol, and it was either now or never. At the exact moment when he pulled the trigger, Jack pushed his arm slightly to the right. This took out one of the pirates holding Camille. She didn't need anymore distraction than that. She took a nearby sword and began slicing away at any trying to kill her.

Jack had easily ducked Long John's swing, and was below his mate and immersed in the second battle of the evening. He was quick to cut the ropes to the tent, causing it to collapse and trap everyone inside for several moments. He could see Camille slip out, and followed her as she made her way swiftly into the nearby underbrush.

"Camille!" he called out in the loudest voice he had used the past several days. She stopped, turning around and sheathing her sword as he quickly approached her. "I want you to run," he said simply. "Take the Thatcher children, get to the lifeboats, get to the ship, and sail away. I'm going to kill Long John, and you will never be hunted again, I promise you," he said in one breath.

She looked at him. The pirates were making their way out from underneath the collapsed tent, and it would be seconds before they were seen. She looked into his eyes for the first time since their falling out. And he knew that her words weren't sarcastic this time. "And the promise of Jack Sparrow means everything to me." She kissed him, giving his hand a squeeze. "Goodbye, Jack," she said before taking off.

She squeezed her eyes shut as she ran, telling herself not to look back. This was how it had to be. But she stopped and turned around when she heard a single loud gunshot ring out. She gasped, clutching her heart. But then she continued on, not stopping until she found the hysterical Gretchen.

By now it was raining, and between the two of them they had absolutely no idea where they were. They managed to find a tiny spot of dryness under a large tree where they were able to fall asleep until the rain stopped early that morning.


	57. Diablo's Gate

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or the character of Long John Silver.

Chapter 57: Diablo's Gate

Camille rolled over, and before she even opened her eyes she knew that she and Gretchen weren't the only ones present. She opened her eyes. "Gretchen!" she said, shaking the woman next to her. "Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

Gretchen knew enough now not to ask questions when told to run. She followed, being able to run much faster in her recent change of clothing. Camille found it horribly difficult to keep herself together. They were being chased, she witnessed a whole village murdered, and now Jack had died. But she couldn't let it sink in; she wouldn't. Not until they were off this island and safe.

"Camille!" Gretchen cried out, pulling her back from running off the edge of a cliff. Camille caught her breath as she dizzily looked down. She had been thinking too much again, and it had nearly cost her life.

They both turned around. "What were we running from?" Gretchen asked, not seeing anything.

"Silver," Camille replied darkly. "The beast's not dead yet, I can sense it. And he's watching us too, laughing at the foolish women." She took out her pistol and shot at nothing, eliciting a far off cry from the jungle. "Is that funny, Silver!" she yelled.

To Gretchen's horror, the pirate revealed himself. He was clapping slowly. "That's very funny, Miss Camille, very funny. And an ill effort on your part. Your suffering will now be three times as painful," he said, signaling for his men to come out. "Ah, I'd almost forgotten. I've got a surprise for you."

"And the suspense is killing me," Camille replied, biting her tongue. She really had to watch that sarcasm. And she shouldn't have used "killing". She felt like she would start crying again when one of the pirates appeared, holding the struggling little Priscilla.

"Priscilla!" Gretchen cried. "Let her go!" she yelled.

"Where is Gabriel?" Camille demanded.

"The boy? He's dead," John replied.

"I am not, you conniving bastard!" Gabriel's voice shouted. It was a bit further away, but they could see that he was being dragged by two more pirates.

"Well, this is turning out to be one happy family reunion," John said, pulling out the map. "And we've only 50 more paces to go."

Camille looked down again, then back at Long John. He nodded, grinning his psychotic grin. "Oh yes," he said, getting closer. "And since you seem to be so much of a heroine, I think you should go first," he said before pushing her with all his might.

She wailed at the top of lungs as she fell backwards off the cliff and headed straight for the rocks. It seemed like time stopped and she was falling in slow motion. She could see Gretchen's shocked face, and John's grin as they watched her slowly fall away from them.

Before long she was underwater, and she shook her head as the surfaced, smacking the water out of her ears. She collapsed on a rock, panting for what seemed like hours. She couldn't believe that she of all people had survived that and avoided splattering on the rocks. But Long John was no less clever for it. With only her down here, the Gate still could not be opened.

She looked around the cave. It was very big, and she wasted no time springing to her feet and surveying as far back as she could go. The cave was dark and cold, and as she went further back light began streaming in. She tried not to shiver as she ran faster. The faster she ran, the more images of Long John murdering Jack flashed through her mind. Finally, the images took over and she lost concentration and slipped. She cried out, flying back and landing on her hand. She laid there on her back, wet among the uncomfortable rocks as she stared up at the stalactites.

Listening closely, she could hear voices somewhere inside. She sat up, cringing as she used her left wrist. It hurt terribly when she had tried to use it, and she cradled it with her other hand. It could still move very slightly, so perhaps it was only a strain.

She sat still, listening. Long John's voice was very recognizable. She wrapped up her wrist, standing up. "Hurry up, Captain Silver!" she called bravely. "And leave Gretchen alone!"

John's unforgettable laugh was reverberating closer. "So you're still alive, eh Quartermaine? Very good."

Camille climbed back up above the rocks she'd fallen on. Two shadows could be seen, and she ignored them as the sunbeams grew brighter. There was barely any water in the part of the cave where she stood. It looked like she was standing inside some sort of grotto. The surrounding walls went straight up, but one of them had a split down the middle of it.


	58. Brute Strength

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or the character of Long John Silver.

Chapter 58: Brute Strength

She approached the wall, feeling it. It was nothing but a straight wall with a perfect line down the middle. It looked so unnatural. Perhaps this was the Gate, but she couldn't find anyplace where a key was supposed to go, much less two keys.

John appeared, nearly hauling Gretchen along. Camille glanced back. "Let her go, Long John," she said, looking back up at the wall. She sighed. What would her mother do? _Fight back, anyway she can_.

"Give me my key, John," she said.

John crutched over to the wall, releasing Gretchen and greedily running his fingers down the crack in the middle of it. Then he grabbed Camille, clutching her by her sprained wrist. She grimaced, trying her best not to make a painful face. "I don't even get 'Long' anymore, love?"

She gritted her teeth. "Despite your reputation, nothing about you is long."

He put more pressure on her wrist, twisting it around. Camille screamed in pain, punching Long John as hard a she could. He yelled, losing his grip on her and staggered backwards, nearly falling. "That really hurt!" she yelled.

Gretchen watched the two of them, looking horrified. Her hand flew to her chest in terror as Camille hit John. She looked at the wall, breaking up the deadly squabble. "Camille, look!" she said, pointing to the wall.

Camille turned around, taking her eyes off Long John. In the wall, a small keyhole was slowly forming. She blinked, but there definitely was a keyhole there. She forgot her throbbing wrist and her seething anger. John handed her the key. Without any of them saying a word, both of the women stepped up to a keyhole. Gretchen looked at Camille, and she nodded. At the same time, they turned their respective keys and stood back to watch.

Slowly, the two sides of the split wall began moving in opposite directions. And the reflection of the gold could already be seen. The Gate had been opened.

Before it even finished opening completely, Long John was through. He had moved surprisingly swiftly for having only one leg. He was laughing insanely as the doors opened wider to reveal the largest pile of treasure that Camille had ever seen.

She gasped, watching the rejuvenated pirate prance around the gold. What had she done; bought herself a few more precious moments of the dear life that had gone so horribly wrong? Long John had to die no matter what.

Gretchen looked like she had realized the exact same thing. John was digging through the coins, roping the necklaces around his neck, and he had even found a new scepter to use n place of a crutch. They both tried to make their way forward, but Long John was as perceptive as Jack had been. He aimed his pistol at Gretchen.

Camille waved her arms desperately. "No! Kill me first!" she demanded.

Luckily, Gretchen caught right on when Long John hesitated. "No, you promised that she would die last!" Gretchen whined in the tone she was so good at carrying.

Camille put her hands on her hips, looking at Gretchen. "I don't want to be around him any longer! I want this over with as painless as possible!" she argued pointing at Long John.

"As do I!"

Camille leaped towards Gretchen, tackling her to the ground as she elicited a scream. "Just go with it," Camille said in her ear as they wrestled. If they kept moving it might be more difficult for John to hit them.

Camille pretended to rip at Gretchen's hair and dress, finally forcing herself to think about everything that would make her cry. They were now past the Gate, and she began to cry hysterically, dramatically throwing Gretchen off and looking up at John. "Just kill me! Kill me now, and put me out of this misery! You took everything from me!" she screamed. As she pretended to lose it, she looked for a weapon. There had to be a way out of this.

But Long John had seen enough. He made his way down through the mounds of treasure to the upset girl. He pointed his pistol right at her nose and held his cutlass to her throat. "That'll be enough complainin' now, Quartermaine. I can think o' some better uses for you."

Camille hoped that this little distraction would give Gretchen the hint to run. To her disappointment, it did. Long John was much too angry with Camille to care for the brunette who had slipped away back through the Gate. Now with her out of the way, the redhead could fight to the death.

With a roar, Camille leapt backwards and into the water, quickly diving below the surface and under the pile of treasure. But John grabbed her painfully by one of her ankles and dragged her back out. She flailed wildly, kicking him in the face and then grabbing at a bunch of golden coins. She threw those at his face as well.


	59. Morgan's Legacy

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or the character of Long John Silver.

Chapter 59: Morgan's Legacy

Long John lunged at her, his sword swinging and his plan of torture dissipating quickly. She was too much trouble to keep around simply for pleasure. And he was tiring out, she could tell. It would only be moments before he would be able to make her bleed to death. His hands were now tightly around her throat, but she still didn't scream.

"Put her down, Long John."

A surprisingly calm and smooth voice filled the cavern, and the color drained immediately from Long John's face as he dropped Camille. "J..Jack," he swallowed. "Th-that's impossible, you're dead! I saw it with me own eyes!" he tried to convince himself.

"Jack!" Camille shrieked, overjoyed. She stayed still now, simply watching.

Jack stood there at the Gate, handsome as ever, with his sword out and his pistol ready. He looked up at John, smirking. "Did you honestly believe that it would be so easy to kill me? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Again, John began laughing like a madman as he patted himself for his pistol. He began backing down as Jack climbed. "N-now Jack," he stammered. "Ye'd take pity on your old mate Long John, now wouldn't ye? Ain't got no pistol."

Jack was standing on the top of the treasure now. Without taking her eyes off either of them, Camille rewrapped her wrist. She noticed that John was reaching his hand slowly down to his side. So he _did_ have a pistol! Lying bastard. She looked at Jack. Did he know? He had to. Long John was such a double-crosser.

Jack's expression hardened. "Never stopped me."

"But it's not like you, mate. 'S ungentlemanly," John said in a light friendly tone. He suddenly pulled out his pistol and aimed, but Jack shot first. Camille's mouth fell open as John staggered back, putting his hand up to the bloody pulp that had become his stomach. He slowly sank to his knees, looking up at Jack with sorrowful eyes.

But Jack stared into them coldly. "Oh, I am no gentleman," he said before squeezing the trigger a second time. Long John's head splattered all over the wall behind him. Camille was so frightened by this, she still couldn't find it in her to move. The same look had been in his eyes before he struck her.

Jack put his pistol away, suddenly giving his attention to her. And the warmth seeped back into his brown eyes, comforting her somewhat. "Did he hurt you, darling?"

She shook her head, moving a little. "Not badly."

Jack made his way down from the pile, passing Long John's body. "Then may he burn in hell for touching my woman," he said, spitting on it. When he turned around he had a fraction of a second to react before Camille leaped into his arms, covering him with kisses. He kissed her back before she put her arms around him.

"Jack, I thought you were dead!"

"I came very close, Camille," he said seriously before putting her down. "He did shoot me," he said, opening his coat to reveal his bloodstained side. She gasped, but he quieted her down. "It's all right love, the bullet's out."

She put her arms back around him. "Oh Jack, I'm so sorry for everything that I said. I had no right to judge you," she apologized.

"I know you didn't mean it, darling," he said, but the memory of their argument still hurt him.

"Camille!" It was Gretchen's voice. She was on the other side of the Gate, along with Gabriel and Priscilla.

Camille grinned. "You found them!" she exclaimed, looking at Jack.

"Miss Camille!" Priscilla said, making her way over to the two of them. Camille put her arms out and embraced the child.

Gabriel made his way to the foot of the pile, staring up at him. Gretchen did the same. "So this is what you've been guarding?" he said, looking at the both of them.

"Apparently," Gretchen replied.

Jack grinned, walking around the perimeter of the treasure. "Let's have a look, then," he said, and they all began digging through it, adorning their fingers with rings and whatnot, pretending to drink from the goblets and setting the statues all around.

Jack busied himself with searching for coins. He threw most of the jewelry aside, fitting as much money as he could into his clothes. But for some reason, a ring caught his eye. He fingered it carefully, bringing it up to examine it a little more closely. It was very pretty, consisting of two diamonds and a larger emerald in the center. But it wasn't as shiny as the rest. He rotated it in his fingers, looking for an inscription. But he only found two letters. MS. What did that stand for? He shrugged, stuffing it in one of his pockets.


	60. No Such Thing As Cursed Treasure

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or the character of Long John Silver.

Chapter 60: No Such Thing As Cursed Treasure

Camille was lying on a pile of coins, looking up at the ceiling of the cave. So this was it. They had made it to Diablo's Gate, Long John was dead… "Jack!" she said, sitting up.

He poked his head around from the side of the pile where he'd been. "Hm?"  
"I'm not so sure that it's a good idea to take any of this with us," she said to him.

"What? Where would you get an idea like that? Darling, we're pirates," he said convincingly.

"But the treasure is cursed."

He looked at her closely, sticking a ring on his pinky finger. "Who told you that?"

"Will."

"Will?"

"Yes, you remember I talked to him about the key. That's how I knew that it had belonged to Silver."

"But how would he know more than I do about this? It was my plan. And Long John wouldn't have gone for the treasure if he knew that it had been cursed. He would have kept me alive, so to speak, so that I could be cursed. D'you see what I'm saying, Camille? That's impossible."

She nodded, remembering that most of what Will had told her had been a lie. "Somebody obviously fed Will the wrong information," she said, eyeing Jack suspiciously.

He looked back at her innocently. "What?"

"Did you lie to Will?" she asked harshly.

"Darling, of COURSE I lied to Will, I lie to everybody! It was only a small stretch of the truth."

"Small? So you being a guardian of the treasure of Diablo's Gate and Long John Silver's brother is a small stretch of the truth?" she said disbelievingly. What else had he lied about?

He caught the expression on her face. "Don't get angry with me, now. I do not wish to argue at a time like this."

"Jack I'm not angry…but what constitutes as a big stretch of the truth?" she wondered.

He thought for a second. "Well…me not liking rum. That would be a shining example."

Camille laughed, putting a crown on his head. "Then you can have whatever part of the treasure you think you deserve. I'm only taking enough money to get back."

"Back to…"

"Port Celebros Jack, Cadence's birthday is in a few months."

His eyes widened. "Did that child not already have a birthday?"

"Well, it does happen once a year."

"So what does that mean?" he asked, clueless.

Camille looked at him, letting go of the pile of gold she had been raking up. Was he serious? "It means that we celebrate it once a year. Cadence will get a party, with food and entertainment and dancing and…do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

"You people do this one a year?" Jack exclaimed incredulously. "No wonder the British have so many problems, you're throwing your money away on something as simple as a person's age."

She pressed her lips together. She didn't want to get Jack upset and thinking about his childhood. Obviously, he had not had the luxury of a mere birthday party every year. And the only thing he had ever told her about his parents was that they had both died when he was young.


	61. Hoy Es Adios

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC, and the title is a song by Carlos Santana, who is an amazing artist.

A/N: A lot of you have told me that you're really surprised when I update like 10-17 chapters a day, so I'm going to let you in on a secret. I usually have all of the chapters written and saved MS Word before I double space them all and upload them and all that jazz. So I have like, 20 pages written weeks/days before I even log onto Fanfiction. So that's my secret. I can't write just one chapter at a time, I just can't. It's all too exciting.

Chapter 61: Hoy Es Adios

They were in the Fuego several days later, being that it was the shortest distance from The Rune and also it was the home of the Thatcher orphans. They spent a few days helping Gretchen, Gabriel and Priscilla become accustomed to life without Maximilian.

The maids and butlers had fled the house in fear when it had been attack by Long John's crew, and some new help had to be found. Other than that, it was all very relaxing to know that the infamous Long John Silver had finally come to an end, and it was his "younger brother" who now held the reputation for murdering him.

After everything had happened, Jack had explained almost everything else to Camille about the plot and his coming to Port Celebros with the intention of seeking her out. He was very impressed that she was able to forgive him for all of it, and also relieved to find that Long John had not injured her in any way.

It was the night they were to set out to Port Celebros. Jack had been able to barter passage off a small cargo ship, and they had already said their goodbyes to the Thatchers with promises of returning. They were in a tavern, getting a quick shot of rum before they would set back out. Camille was in a simple dress, and she sat on Jack's lap as they waited for the crew to assemble at the dock. She didn't know why, but she still felt a bit uneasy. Everything was resolved now, but she still felt like there was somewhat of a wall between her and Jack; as always. Would he ever admit his feelings for her?

Jack put his hand on her thigh, gently holding her steady. He gritted his teeth, remembering that this woman had stuck by him in some of the worst situations possible. He had to set aside his pride, just this once. He realized that the longer he waited, the harder it would be. He took a deep breath. Jack Sparrow owed her an apology. "Camille darling, there is something I must tell you before we leave. Could you have a seat, love?"

She looked down at him. "What's the matter Captain, are you tired of staring at my breasts already?" she said playfully as she got up and took a seat in the chair next to him. She hated to hear that tone of voice. The last time he'd used it she had been kidnapped.

He looked at her, taking another large gulp of rum before he began speaking. This was going to take a whole lot of effort, but it had to be said. He pursed his lips, ground his teeth together, clenched and unclenched his fists…finally, he was ready. And all the while, Camille waited with the patience of a saint. _God bless the woman's soul_, he thought. "Camille, I'm so sorry that I hit you," he said, looking into her eyes.

She looked back at him. What was she to say to that? She wasn't going to reply that it was all right, because it hadn't been. And she had slapped him a good number of times, as well. "Jack, it crushed me," she admitted.

"I know, I know," he said, putting his hands up. "There is no reason in the world for me to have done that, especially to you. But please, just try and hear me out before hating and condemning me and whatnot," he said, waving them about.

"All right," Camille replied softly. She knew it was because she had mentioned his _Pearl._

"I…oh, bloody hell," he said before taking another very long drink and emptying out his rum glass. "I lost her."

"_The Black Pearl_?" Camille said, her voice going up an octave or two. "My God Jack, how?"

He shook his head. "It was taken here, in the Fuego, when I left to get on Long John's ship. They're holding it up in Port Royale," he said desolately.

"Well then, we've got to get it back," she said simply. "Nobody keeps _The Black Pearl_ from you, you're Captain Jack Sparrow." She leaned in a bit closer. "And might I add, are quite a handful in the bedroom." She winked, and he couldn't help but grin.

"Aye, I'll admit to that," he said cunningly, getting up. "You know Camille, sometimes I think that without you I would be a very lonely man. I wouldn't admit that to anybody, but I would be."

She laughed, nudging him. "Oh, our paths would've crossed eventually. After all, I am the Redheaded Rogue of the Spanish Main."

"Quite an impressive title for such a petite woman," Jack said, putting his arm around her waist as they waltzed out of the tavern.


	62. The Final Chapter

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC.

Chapter 62: The Final Chapter

The voyage didn't seem to take very long at all, but perhaps that was because Camille was once again on good terms with one of the only men who had been decent to her. She always felt when she was at sea, that somehow time was stopped for a little while between land. She often wondered if Jack felt that same way, but he had to.

They made it without any difficulty at all to Port Celebros. Their biggest concern was being spotted by Norrington and his patsies, but it was assumed that he was over in Port Royale gallivanting around after his triumphant capture of the last pirate ship in the Caribbean. Camille had been writing to Will and the others fairly frequently, but she hadn't mentioned that they would be arriving in Port Celebros anytime soon.

Jack of course, had to check on his crewmates and make sure that none of them were hanged or in jail, so Camille was on her own for the time being. She was in her pirate outfit again and received odd stares as she walked through the market. Finally, she made it to her former mansion, looking up the hill at it. It seemed like every time she got back, it got bigger.

She decided not to use the front entrance and see what would happen, so she snuck around back and climbed through her window. And it was fun! Now she knew why Jack never used the front door. She felt such a sense of secrecy, even though she was in her own room. She opened the door, peering out into the hallway. She looked down the stairs and heard a movement. Instinctively, she made it to the next nearest wall and hid behind it before she remembered that she had nothing to be sneaky about in this house.

She laughed at herself, and stepped away from the wall and almost into Will's pistol. She looked at him. "Are you going to shoot me, William?"

"Camille!" he cried, putting it away immediately and hugging her. She did the same, kissing him on the cheek. "What on earth are you doing here?"

"Will, its Cadence's birthday!" Camille replied animatedly. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, you know that."

He released her. "Your letters kept getting shorter and shorter, and we were beginning to fear the worst," he admitted.

"Well, that's what you get for being pessimistic," she scolded him playfully. "Long John is dead, and Jack killed him. I saw it! It was horrifying!"

Will nodded. "I'll bet it was. So…so Jack actually killed his own brother?" Will asked.

Camille bit her lip. He didn't know the truth. But should she tell him about her mother's legacy or keep the secret? What harm could it bring her if Will knew? She cleared her throat. "Well, there's quite a bit to the story. Perhaps I should save it for another time. Where is everyone else?"

"Annie is just out back. Ana Maria took the children out for a bit," Will explained as Camille made her way to the kitchen and outside.

She stood there, waving her arms. "Annie!" she called. "Annie, I've come home! Where are you?"

Suddenly, a head appeared just above the tall grasses. Annie recognized her voice immediately, and waved for her to come over. Camille ran to her and embraced her even tighter than she had with Will.

Annie squeezed just as much. "Oh Camille," she said breathlessly, even though Camille had been the one running. "Girl, I was worried sick about ya!" she confided. "I been havin' terrible dreams, just awful!"

"Well, they're not going to come true, because I'm safe," Camille assured her.

"Please tell me you plan on stayin' a bit," Annie asked hopefully.

"Well, we've lost the ship, so I don't really see anywhere else that I have to go."

Annie's expression went blank. "Jack's ship? Lost? Is that the one I heard the new Governor prattlin' on about?"

Camille nodded. "Yes, they've finally caught that ship. And I've no idea how I am to even begin to go about getting it back."

Annie looked at her. "I should've expected as much from you, ya silly woman." She shook her finger at Camille. "Stay away from Port Royale. By now they must know that you're Sparrow's ally."

"Oh, Annie please! That ship means everything to Jack, it's everything he has! The man will go insane without being at sea, we all know that."

Annie just stared at Camille. "Child, tell me you didn't."

"Didn't what?"  
"Don't play me for a fool Miss Quartamaine, you've gone and fallen for a pirate!" Annie exclaimed, stomping her foot. "Did yer father teach ya nothin'?"

"Annie, he's changed," Camille tried to explain.

Annie just sighed and shook her head. "A man like that can't change, I've heard things from Ana Maria. Awful things that man has done. You know he's a murderer?" Annie said, whispering the last word.

"Well yes," Camille said thoughtfully. "But that doesn't mean that he can't regret some of the things he's done."

"Child, you are hopeless," Annie said sadly.

"Annie, give him one chance to impress you. I promise you won't be disappointed. He really is a good man. Remember what he did for Peter the last time?"

"Oh, I'll give him a chance," Annie said impatiently. "But one wrong move an' he's out!"

Camille laughed as they made their way back into the house. Annie had always been just as protective of Camille as her father, and she wanted nothing more than to see the young woman happy. And this pirate stuff was just too much for her to handle, though she tried her best.

Camille ran upstairs to change into a nice dress, and was done by the time Ana Maria came back. She stayed in her room, washing up and putting away her clothes until she heard a small knock on her door. "Enter," she said.

It was Sheila, and she had a big grin on her face. She shrieked and ran into Camille's open arms as she swooped the child off her feet. "Miss Camille, you've returned!" Sheila exclaimed.

"Of course I have, darling. Where is your brother?"

"He's downstairs washing up for dinner, but I'm already washed up," Sheila told her.

"Well then," Camille said, setting her down. "Let's go and help your mother."

They made their way downstairs when Camille heard another tiny voice. "Camille! Camille!" it said, with the exception of the "l's". It was little Cadence, and she'd gotten bigger. She was toppling over her unsteady feet as she ran across the floor.

Camille smiled and knelt down to pick up the baby. "Cadence, you've almost learned to say my name!" she said, picking up Cadence and kissing her. "Hello, darling. Do you know what day tomorrow is?"

"My birfday!" Cadence said, clapping her little hands.

"That's right. And what do you want me to get you for your birthday?"

"Dollhouse!"

Camille laughed, bringing her to the table and hugging Ana Maria. She was just setting Cadence down when the doorbell rang. She straightened up, alarmed. Oh God, it couldn't be Norrington could it? Had he spotted her in her pirate attire?

"I'll answer it!" Peter said, coming out of the washroom and running to the door. To Camille's relief, he saluted after he opened it. That meant that it could be none other than the infamous captain.

"Jack come and sit down, it's time for dinner!" Camille called.

"But wash yer hands first!" Annie added.

Jack nodded, shutting the door behind him. "As you wish, Miss Williams."

Ana Maria took a seat. "Everything all right, Captain?"

Jack nodded as he approached the table. "Aye."

Sheila waved at him, and Cadence did the same. "Hello, Jack!" she called.

He nodded to her. "Good evening, ladies," he said, kissing each one of them on their little hands. "And especially to you, Miss Quartermaine," he said, kissing her on the inside of the wrist like a gentlemen.

But Camille laughed, leaning over and pressing her lips to his as everyone at the table watched, more shocked than embarrassed. Jack and Camille took their seats next to one another, and in a moment dinner began in silence before Peter put his fork down.

"Captain Sparrow, we're all waiting in suspense," he said.

Jack just grinned, taking a sip of his wine and placing it down. He placed his hand gently on Camille's knee underneath the table, and she put her hand on his. "So there I was, at the helm of the _Pearl,_ when all of a sudden this windstorm comes outta nowhere…."

And finally, here is the poem that I based Camille's character off and got the title for my story.

**She Was a Phantom of Delight**

_William Wordsworth_

She was a phantom of delight

When first she gleamed upon my sight;

A lovely apparition, sent

To be a moment's ornament;

Her eyes as stars of twilight fair;

Like twilight's, too, her dusky hair;

But all things else about her drawn

From May-time and the cheerful dawn;

A dancing shape, and image gay,

To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

I saw her upon nearer view,

A spirit, yet a woman too!

Her household motions light and free,

And steps of virgin liberty;

A countenance in which did meet

Sweet records, promises as sweet;

A creature not too bright or good

For human nature's daily food,

For transient sorrows, simple wiles,

Praise, blame, love, kisses, tears, and smiles.

And now I see with eye serene

The very pulse of the machine;

A being breathing thoughtful breath,

A traveler between life and death;

The reason firm, the temperate will,

Endurance, foresight, strength, and skill;

A perfect woman, nobly planned

To warn, to comfort, and command;

And yet a spirit still, and bright

With something of angelic light.

THE END

WHOOOOOO! I did it, I finished my first story! I've written hundreds of things but never finished or gave up on them. I left the ending of this one open because I don't know whether I want to do a sequel or not? What do you think? Sequel? Comments, please! Thank you all for taking the time to read this. I couldn't have written it without some of the constructive criticism that I received from you.


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